Survivors of Kirkwall
by Theodur
Summary: Post-DA2 / Legacy-DLC. Bethany and her friends square off against Corypheus in a desperate and deadly battle, while in Denerim, Hawke receives an unexpected visit from her old "benefactor", a certain Witch of the Wilds...
1. Chapter 1

Happy New Year, dear readers!

This story is a direct sequel to my Dragon Age 2 novelization, Tranquility, which you can probably find from my profile or something.

Just in the case if you are not up to speed with the events of that story, or simply do not wish to catch up (can't blame anyone who doesn't want to go through 81 chapters!), allow me to present you with a small summary of how things stand in this particular version of Thedas-verse.

**IN FERELDEN,** the elven Grey Warden Maythre has taken the throne through wars, elaborate plotting and series of assassinations. The sinister blood mage has since then freed the elves and Circle mages, as well as sent the Chantry priests and revered mother seeking refuge in Orlais. As the aging Divine ponders about Exalted Marches, the elven Queen works tirelessly to solidify her grasp on Ferelden, alongside her trusted general Ser Cauthrien.

The current status of Maythre's former companions is as follows:

**Alistair** - sent in Exile following Landsmeet, location currently unknown. Speculation: Free Marches.

**Leliana** - killed by Maythre prior to Landsmeet, when attempting to take the Urn of Sacred Ashes from the elven blood mage.

**Morrigan** - location unknown, disappeared after Maythre denied her the Dark Ritual, fearing her rival would become too powerful. Speculation: Eventually found her way to step through the Eluvian.

**Oghren** - current whereabouts unknown, but he never did leave Orzammar after helping Maythre to locate Branka. Speculation: still living in Orzammar with his insane wife.

**Shale** - location unknown, all traces of the loyal golem disappeared after the final battle in Denerim and Archdemon's defeat. Speculation: perhaps traveled to Tevinter Imperium to reverse the effects of her current condition and become a dwarf again.

**Sten** - current whereabouts unknown, departed Ferelden shortly after the Archdemon's defeat. Speculation: has returned to Par Vollen.

**Wynne** - killed in the great cleansing of the Ferelden Circle during the Fifth Blight.

**Zevran **- died in Dragon 9:36 in the Warden's Keep, sacrificed by Queen Maythre to cure herself of the darkspawn taint.

**IN KIRKWALL,** Riona Hawke managed to stop Meredith from putting the Right of Annulment into effect, however, Meredith's defeat came at a very heavy cost. To stop the Knight-Commander, Hawke was manipulated by Flemeth into using a powerful blood magic spell, and as consequence, Hawke was expelled from Kirkwall by the new acting Knight-Commander Cullen. As she attempts to flee to safety in Ostwick, Hawke is intercepted by Ser Cauthrien who takes her captive to deliver to Queen Maythre's court in Denerim...

The current status of Riona Hawke's former companions is as follows:

**Anders** - died after blowing up the Chantry, regretting that he had put such terrible plans in motion, after realizing that Bethany had been in the Chantry when his bomb went off.

**Aveline** - has remained in Kirkwall to restore order to the turmoil embroiled city. Together with Knight-Commander Cullen they work to protect the citizens of Kirkwall from the demons swarming from Darktown and threatening to reduce the city to ruins.

**Bethany** - in the wrong place at the wrong time, Bethany is presumed to have died at the explosion in the Chantry. In a task that nobody fancies, her body has not yet been recovered from the rubble.

**Fenris** - consumed by his hatred for magic, blaming Hawke for everything that went wrong for him in Kirkwall, Fenris joined the Templar Order and attempted to hunt down Riona when she was fleeing Kirkwall. During his duel with Hawke, he was killed by the intervening Ser Cauthrien.

**Isabela **- having betrayed Hawke several times, Isabela severely misjudged Riona's capacity for forgiveness and ended up handed over to the Arishok. Varric's sources have learned that she has since escaped, but her current whereabouts and fate are unknown.

**Merrill** - a carelessly spoken word alerted the Forbidden One, desire demon Xebenkeck, to the existence of the Eluvian in Kirkwall. The demoness, interested in the secrets of the mirror, took a reluctant Merrill with her, passing through the Eluvian together. What happened to Merrill after that... nobody knows.

**Sebastian** - the prince of Starkhaven passed away in the destruction of the Chantry, together with his beloved Grand Cleric Elthina.

**Varric **- after Meredith's defeat, stayed in Kirkwall to round up some last loose ends before following his secret lover Hawke to Ostwick. What Varric does not know, however, is that Hawke never reached Ostwick and is currently on the way to Ferelden...

Welp, that's all the summary I can manage. Enjoy the story that is about to follow, ok? And have a happy 2012, everyone. :)


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 1**

_9:37 Dragon  
>Out in the Waking Sea <em>

Foggy outline of jagged reefs hiding in thick mist was all that Riona Hawke could make out, staring at the shores of Ferelden. Standing on the deck, elbows propped against the railing, she was pleased that the seasickness had stayed away for most of this journey. _Isabela was right. Staying cooped up in the hold was the problem. It's actually lovely out here._

For two weeks Cauthrien and Shilla, the timid elven healer, had kept her locked up in her bunk as she tossed about the bed restlessly in delirious fever, worried that their precious prize might fade away before they had a chance to bring her to Denerim and present her to the new Queen. Now, for the first time they had allowed her to leave the cabin and climb up to the deck and breathe some fresh air of the sea. Cauthrien still lurked nearby, keeping an eye out on her, even if it didn't seem that the grim general expected her to somehow miraculously flee in the middle of an open sea.

_Of course, if she only knew what happened in Kirkwall before I left, she'd be more worried of me jumping overboard,_ Riona thought grimly, the memories pulling at her with their crushing weight. Her sister, her entire family, lost. Her life in Kirkwall, something she could never return to. And Varric... he was alive, she was sure of it, but he would not know where to look for her. _Will I ever see him again?_ she wondered, heart growing heavy with doubt.

She looked at the bow of the ship, cutting the waves with white foaming caps, shaking the boat in the unruly sea. _I wonder how easy it would be to just drown myself and escape it all?_ Riona wondered idly. _Probably not very pleasant as the water fills your lungs and you are left struggling, flailing like mad and fighting for breath._ She felt a shudder pass through her from that mental image. _No, I couldn't do that. I've lost much, yes, but I still have my life, my magic. And who would take care of my little Spot?_

Not to mention that she was slowly starting to become curious why Queen Maythre had thought it so important to bring her to Denerim. She had even sent her second in command, along with great many soldiers, all just to secure her capture. The events in Kirkwall were probably very puzzling to all observers, and even those in the thick of it didn't always know what was happening. If Queen Maythre wanted to know what had truly happened in the Gallows of Kirkwall, Riona had to admit that she was the best person to ask. _And I have to confess, seeing Ferelden again after all these years... I am starting to wonder how it will look like, there are bound to be great changes!_

"That's enough for the first time," her thoughts were abruptly interrupted by Cauthrien's sudden appearance at her side. Firm hand on her shoulder pulled her away from the railings and guided her back towards the hold. "Her Majesty would be most displeased if you had a relapse of your illness. Shilla would likely pay for it with her life if that happened."

"I'm sure Her Majesty would be rather disappointed with you as well, General," Riona smirked, allowing herself to be led away to the stuffy, cramped cabin. She would have loved to remain out there on the deck for much longer, but the healer was probably right, she was still weak as a kitten.

Cauthrien did not reply to her light attempt at baiting, but the shove with which she pushed Riona towards the stairs was a little rough. "I advise you to think carefully what you say when you are brought before the Queen," the tall warrior told her as they had reached the doors to Riona's cabin. "I have no choice but to suffer your impertinence for now. Her Majesty will not tolerate such flippancy."

"But I thought she wanted us to be the best of friends," Riona smiled broadly as she opened the doors to see Shilla putting the last few touches to her breakfast table. The way she carefully arranged the flowers in a vase next to the steaming pot of oatmeal painfully reminded Riona of Merrill. "Why don't you join me for breakfast, General?" she said suddenly, surprising Cauthrien.

"There's more than enough for two, Ser Cauthrien," Shilla spoke quickly, seeing the taller woman hesitating. "It would, ah, save me from having to set another table just for you..."

"Fine," Cauthrien allowed herself a shadow of a smile.

Riona sat down quickly, watching the other woman struggling to comfortably fit her larger frame at the small breakfast table. "You don't mind me taking most of the boiled eggs, I'm sure," she said. "You seem like an oatmeal person to me."

"Oatmeal is perfect for someone ailing with lingering sickness like you are," Cauthrien said, unceremoniously grabbing three of the soft boiled eggs, leaving Riona staring at the last one. She sighed and took the egg before Cauthrien snatched that as well.

As Shilla left them, they ate in silence, Cauthrien never speaking unless spoken to or only to bark orders. There were a few people with whom Riona felt comfortable in lasting silence, but Cauthrien certainly wasn't one of them, and after a while she was starting to feel anxious, the silence becoming suffocating. Finally it became too much.

"I should tell you of the prophecy I heard back in Kirkwall," Riona spoke quickly, almost startling Cauthrien. "A very accurate prophecy, for all of it seems to have come true."

"I don't have time for ridiculous prophecies," Cauthrien appeared dismissive.

"Really? I believe it involved you," Riona said, noting that her words caught the other woman's interest, for she was now staring at her intently. "It described several important people I would meet, in certain order, and I think the last of them were you."

"Why do you think so?" the general asked.

"It spoke of me meeting The Fallen Knight," Riona explained.

Cauthrien looked a little irritated. "You must have it wrong then. I haven't fallen, not even from a horse."

"You believe that yourself?" Riona asked. "The things you did when Loghain decided to betray Cailan? The things I've heard you have done serving the new Queen? I know Loghain paraded you around like some sort of beacon of righteousness before the Blight and all that came with it. You don't seem to be that person anymore."

"You are making a lot of assumptions about my character," Cauthrien snarled. "Do not presume to lecture me, Hawke. Loghain was a fool, I realize that now. I believed he knew what he was doing. I believed he knew what to do to keep the land at peace, but he didn't. The Warden, however, did."

"That's why you abandoned Loghain and joined her?" Riona asked.

"I was having doubts before meeting her, but when we came face to face prior to the Landsmeet... it felt as if she knew each and every of these doubts in my head," Cauthrien admitted.

_Blood magic could do that easily, I think,_ Riona mused. _I will need to guard my mind against the Queen, for no doubt she will attempt to intrude it._ "You must have known Anora well," she continued. "To lead Her Majesty's armies against her... wasn't that difficult for you?"

"I never liked Anora," Cauthrien scowled darkly. "And her reign was proving disastrous. The land chafed under her rule, and she was about to do something that Loghain would have never even considered, parley with the Orlesians for military support. She could not ensure lasting peace for Ferelden."

"Perhaps she would have had better luck with that if the Warden and Arl Eamon hadn't marched against her?" Riona suggested.

"It happened. Pointless to think about it now," Cauthrien shrugged. "I am in charge of protecting the realm, and for the past few years the land has been safer than anyone can remember."

"I suppose to the common man it doesn't really matter much how it has been achieved, does it?" their eyes met, Cauthrien holding Riona's stare without flinching.

"Should it matter?" the general replied simply.

"I knew a man, a mage from Ferelden. I told him about what Queen Maythre had done in our homeland, how she had secured more freedoms for our kind. But he would just scowl at it all darkly, saying that the blood magic used to achieve it had tainted it all," Riona started her tale, feeling her fists clenching tight as the face of Anders resurfaced in her memories.

"It is foolish to think so," Cauthrien shook her head resolutely. "Are there gentle methods for winning a war? Only an idealist would state something like that."

"Yes... and then he went on to blow up the Kirkwall Chantry, killing hundreds, if not thousands," Riona said angrily, gritting her teeth to fight away the tears. "My sister among them."

"I am... sorry for your loss," Cauthrien appeared surprised, even a little sympathetic. "So, what lessons are we to take away from all that?"

"That some people are plain insane?" Riona shrugged. "The ones who would want us to think that blood magic is inherently evil then go and commit terrible crimes, worse or as bad as anything ever done with blood magic."

"It is merely a tool. And tools can be used for good and evil both," Cauthrien said, then looking back at her with interest. "Have you ever used blood magic yourself?"

"Only once," Riona confessed. "I did it to save one of my best friends from certain death."

"Like I said then," Cauthrien nodded. "It can be used for good as well."

"I suppose you are right," Riona nodded. _No, I know she __**is**__ right. These years of indoctrination, however, make it hard to truly believe it myself. I don't think I will ever feel comfortable using it. _

"Well, I will leave you to ponder about it in peace," Cauthrien quickly finished the glass of fresh apple juice and rose from the table. She looked at Riona, somewhat more approvingly than before. "I did not expect such a... difficult conversation at the breakfast table. I am a soldier, Hawke. Soul searching is not for me. This was the first and the last time I indulge you in such a discussion."

"Understood," Riona nodded. _Someone's not quite at peace with their own actions as they claim to be, it seems,_ she couldn't help thinking even when Shilla returned several minutes later to clean up the table.

The elf looked up at her a little worriedly as she started to collect the empty dishes. "It might not be wise to make such inquiries about the general's past," she said while working quickly. "She doesn't like that, I hope you did not anger her."

"I don't think I did that, and it also might not be wise to eavesdrop for she would like that even less, I suspect," Riona said pointedly, making Shilla's cheeks redden.

"It was impossible not to overhear, Mistress," the elf said apologetically. "Ser Cauthrien tends to speak as if she were barking orders to her troops on the battlefield."

Riona chuckled at that. "She's not quite that bad, but you have a point there." She stretched lazily, looking outside the porthole. The dark coastline of Ferelden seemed to have grown a little more prominent. "I wonder how much longer this voyage will take."

"I heard the captain reporting to Ser Cauthrien," Shilla quickly replied. "He said two days at most. We sailed past Amaranthine during the night, so we're almost there."

_This girl does seem to hear almost everything. Perhaps her friendship might be of future use to me,_ Riona mused thoughtfully as Shilla turned to address her again. "Mistress, if you don't mind me saying... the clothes you were wearing at the time when we found you are ruined, or at least not in a state presentable to the Queen. However... I have a collection of dresses in my cabin, I'm sure one of them would be to your liking. Perhaps you would care to try them on? It would not do well to leave that to the last moment."

"That seems more exciting than just lazing around, I agree," Riona nodded. "I would take a bath first, though, if you could please prepare it for me..."

"Of course, Mistress," Shilla nodded, hurrying away with the dishes. "I will do so immediately."

* * *

><p>Sometime later, Riona was standing in front of a large mirror that again painfully reminded her of Merrill and that damned eluvian. They had gone through a fair amount of dresses already, but the one Shilla had passed to her now seemed most promising. It wasn't quite as ridiculously bushy and ruffled as the dictate of the current fashion trends, and the slimming waistline and the way it left her shoulders and hands completely naked rather appealed to Riona.<p>

"I think I'll settle on this one, Shilla," she said, having made her decision. The beige color of the dress perfectly suited the brown of her eyes and hair, still damp from the bath, a few errant wet strands stuck to her brow, making her look very roguish.

"I agree, it looks... very enchanting," Shilla's voice was tinged with admiration. "I imagine Mistress turned the heads of many men in the Free Marches."

Riona smiled, shaking her head. "I don't think so, or at least I did not notice it. I was an apostate mage trying to elude the templars and the Circle... playing games of seduction was the least of my concerns."

"In Ferelden, you will not have to worry about anyone threatening you because of being a mage," Shilla said, standing next to her and then moving to straighten out some wrinkles in the dress around her thighs. "And the word _apostate_ is losing its meaning already. Because of Her Majesty Maythre, mages are becoming well respected. You will be admired for what you are."

"I doubt your Queen ordered me brought to Denerim just so she can display me at the royal dinner parties and watch me mingle and cavort with the Fereldan nobility," Riona commented, continuing to stare at the mirror. "Though... it feels good to dress up and look pretty now and then..."

"The dress doesn't seem to need any adjustments at all... if you want to keep wearing it for a while more, Mistress," the elven servant said after a while, when Riona hadn't moved away from the mirror. "I'll just... leave you with your thoughts."

The doors to her cabin closed quietly as the elf departed, leaving Riona alone. She stared at her own reflection, feeling strangely disembodied, as if suddenly not recognizing the young woman staring back at her. The smile still blossomed on her lips readily, appearing warm and welcoming to a casual observer, at times distant and guarded to those who knew her better.

Her deep brown eyes, one would say shone as bright and lively as ever, but in truth only to hide so many other emotions. Dark shadows of doubts, distrust, worry and suspicion lurked under the guise of pleasant and approachable disposition, legacy of her experiences in Kirkwall. At the tender age of twenty-seven, she had confronted more horrors than most would face in their lifetimes, but the scars, she hid them well.

_And now I'm heading into the lion's den, with no friends, nobody I can trust at my side. I can only rely on myself. Perhaps for the best, for I fear nothing. I have already suffered worse than what anyone can do to me. There is nothing left to lose. Kirkwall took everything from me, but in doing so it made me stronger. Everyone will be forced to see that._ Thoughts ran through her head, turning back to the years spent in the City of Chains, memories flashing past her, of friends left behind that she hoped to see again... and of those who had not survived.

_Aveline. _She would continue serving the citizens of Kirkwall through whatever disasters fate threw in their way. Riona would no longer be by her side to help survive through yet another crisis, but somehow she felt that Aveline would cope just fine without her. _And one day I will return to find her, still stuck yelling at the lazy recruits, looking after each and every of her guards like an overprotective mother hen._

_Merrill._ She had made Bethany so happy, despite Riona's fears and worries. In three years the two had known true happiness, and Riona had forgotten her objections to their relationship. And then, everything had collapsed like a house of cards. _What happened to you, Merrill? I came to love you as a sister, a part of family. I won't believe you would willingly abandon us... I refuse to believe that..._

_Anders. _It was still hard to think of him without getting instantly overcome by seething anger. A broken man, he thought he was helping all mages of Thedas when he set his terrible plan in motion. So determined in Justice's righteous anger, his certainty had turned into shock and despair the moment he learned Bethany had been at the Chantry. _I will never stop wondering if I could have done something to stop him from doing that. If I had taken his side more often or supported his involvement with Bethany... but it would have been at the expense of everything I believe in._

_Fenris. _He had distrusted her after Hadriana, enough to assume the worst, that she would sell him out to Danarius. With Isabela gone, his anger and bitterness had consumed him completely, making him turn on her. And before his death he had said that there could have been something more between them. _If only I had supported him, stood by his side when he needed it most, perhaps all would have turned out differently. But he wanted words I could not say, expected actions I could not take. I could not mend his life for him when my own life threatened to collapse at every turn. I needed strength and support myself._

_Varric. _He had followed her, she was sure of it. Perhaps something had delayed him in Kirkwall, and he did not get to her in time. Now he had no idea where she was, and Riona could already see him using his spy network to find a trace of her. _I'll come back to you Varric, if you don't find me before then, I swear. I'll return to Kirkwall for you. Just wait for me until I deal with this... whatever it is that the Queen has in store for me._

_Bethany._ Riona watched her reflection in the mirror twist with pain as her sister's smiling face drifted up in a sea of memories. She struggled against the tears, sniffing mightily, but no wetness escaped down her cheeks. It was the first time she had managed to avoid breaking into tears when thinking about Beth. _I've cried so much for you already, sister. But now I won't cry anymore. There are better ways to honor your memory... like being strong for you, and for our family. And where I'm heading... I will need all the strength I can muster. _


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 2**

_9:37 Dragon  
>City of Kirkwall<em>

For two days since the explosion, Varric could not bring himself to visit Hightown and see the damage for himself. Drinking far more heavily than usual, in his more sober periods he had done a little writing, but the words hadn't flown. Thinking of Hawke, he had tried to do some packing in preparation to leave himself, but even that task took too much energy he simply didn't have just then.

But the grim duty he had placed upon himself could wait no longer. Steeling himself, Varric made the last few steps up the stone stairway from Lowtown. The Chantry cathedral should have opened to his eyes on his left, a constant part of the Hightown landscape, visible from almost every vantage point. Now there was a gaping hole where it should have been, and even if the place held no spiritual significance to Varric, its absence was still distressing, making the city almost unrecognizable, alien.

The damage was prevalent everywhere he looked. Shower of rubble and larger boulders had swept across the marketplace, pools of dried blood here and there, in front of Hubert's stall. People had died here as well, not only in the immediate vicinity of the Chantry. Shaking his head, Varric continued on his path, passing by the Amell Estate. Face of a young woman, striking a painful semblance with Bethany, flashed in the window for a brief moment, Hawke's cousin Charade, on guard against looters or rampaging demons. The exterior of the estate had suffered significant damage. A large piece of rock had struck the wing with Hawke's bedroom, smashing through the window and tearing down part of the wall, currently boarded off with wooden planks. The front door had been smashed as well, but someone had already made hasty repairs on it. Probably Gamlen.

Varric quickly ran up the stairs to Viscount's Way to see the damage done to the Keep. It had been struck with several large pieces of rock as well, and guards were busy cleaning up the damage, removing the debris of the large statue of the Tevinter bird-creature that once had stood above the front entrance, but now lay in ruins, blocking the doors to the Keep.

He turned around and returned to the square just below the Viscount's Way, barely able to navigate it, so full with debris that he had to climb parts of it just to get past the gate and towards the other large square at the bottom of the stairs leading up to the Chantry. That place had been cleared from most of the debris, but it had been done for a single, grim purpose. To make room for all the dead, being recovered from the rubble.

There was not a stone, not a single pillar of the Chantry left standing. The estates on both sides of it had suffered a similar fate as well. The house he had sold to that Rivaini noble had been leveled almost entirely. The estate in which Fenris had been hiding was obliterated as well, but Varric did not believe the lanky elf had been within at the time. The Harriman estate was partly in ruins, the de Launcet mansion seemed to have fared slightly better, but death was everywhere he looked. The rows of the dead were distressingly long and there were... six, seven... no more, eight, they had already started piling bodies in the ninth row, each of them at least forty corpses long.

Varric closed his eyes and took a deep breath, before starting the grim walk between the rows, staring at every one of the deceased in turn. He did not want to see the familiar colors of Bethany' robes. But he had to. _Oh Sunshine, why did it have to be you? You were the gentlest and kindest of us all. I loved you almost as much as I love your sister. _

Once he was done with the first two rows, Varric stopped and pulled out his flask of rum, taking a shot and shaking his head, trying to clear his thoughts. He would have loved to be unaffected by these sights, but how could anyone truly remain undisturbed by something this horrible? The cause of death for most had been physical impact of falling rocks or simply the sheer force of explosion, the bodies badly damaged and in some cases nearly unrecognizable. He had to stare at them for a long while, sometimes search their possessions to identify them. Worst of all were those who had suffered heavy burns, the remains of their clothing not allowing for identification. Quietly, Varric prayed that Bethany wasn't one of those charred bodies he had to give up on.

The templars and the guards together with a few surviving Chantry sisters worked diligently in clearing the rubble and bringing in new victims, allowing Varric to continue his exploration in peace, recognizing him. He was done with a few more rows of the deceased, but after the seventh pass, he simply felt the need to sit down and empty the remains of his flask. It was starting to become too difficult.

As he sat, feeling the pleasant warmth of the rum spreading throughout his body, chasing the depressive images of the dead away, a shadow rose above him, blocking the sunlight falling on his brow. He squinted upwards to see the familiar face of a templar, standing next to him. "Knight-Captain! Or is it Knight-Commander already?" he greeted Cullen, managing a sardonic chuckle.

"What you are doing here, dwarf?" Cullen stared at him hard. "You shouldn't be here."

"And shouldn't you be protecting the city from those damned demonspawn?" the dwarf stared back, not budging. "The Hanged Man suffered four attacks last night, it is scandalous. The property value is not just going downhill! It has hit the bottom of the Waking Sea! By the way... the name's Varric."

"I've assigned as many templars as I can to fight the demons... Ser Varric," Cullen said, less unkindly. "Even so, they fight a losing battle," he sighed then. "We had to pull out of Darktown and seal all entrances, there were too many of them."

"Seal the entrances?" Varric looked at the templar commander, surprised. "There had to be some survivors still down there! Now they are trapped with all those demons!" He knew of at least two of his contacts who would have been in the Undercity. He hadn't heard from them in a while, so quite likely they were dead by now.

"One of those terrible decisions to make, Ser Dwarf," Cullen admitted sadly. "We would not have been able to save those trapped. Their sacrifice will save thousands, and we have already started to evacuate those from the most threatened areas of Lowtown. The Hanged Man is not safe either, at least until the Circle mages from Nevarra arrive to deal with these... what did they call it? Ah yes, rifts in the Veil."

Varric shrugged. "Well, I'm just glad it wasn't my decision to make. You're the one who will have to live with it." He fell silent, before adding. "I bet Aveline was not happy with it, if you even bothered asking her."

"Unlike my predecessor, I do listen to what the others tell me, Ser Dwarf," Cullen replied. "The Guard-Captain is an admirable woman of great courage and experience, her advice is most appreciated. She was not pleased about sacrificing Darktown, but she had to admit there were no alternatives."

"In your place, I would consider a career change, Knight-Captain," Varric said, rising from the ground. "You've got a real crap job, you know? Fixing this shithole... I don't envy you."

"Someone has to do it," Cullen shrugged. "But you really should not be here, Varric," he added, seeing that the dwarf was about to resume his inspection of the dead.

"What are you going to do, slap me in irons and drag me away?" Varric snapped back, not even bothering to look back at the templar commander.

Cullen just shook his head sadly and turned to leave. "Suit yourself."

Eighth row of the dead. Seeing a black-haired young woman in a dark green dress had briefly paralyzed Varric with fear, her face unrecognizable from heavy burns. Once he had touched the fabric of the dress with shaking hands, rubbing it for a while, he breathed out in relief. _Not the fabric of mage robes. Thank the... whatever is watching, Ancestors, anyone... _

"Varric..." a soft woman's voice suddenly called out his name, sounding full of concern.

He quickly turned around, again having to look up. _Blighted humans, couldn't that damned Maker create them a tiny bit shorter?_ "Aveline," he realized. "I know what you're going to say, and just don't bother, alright? You're wasting your time."

"Why must you torture yourself like this, Varric?" Aveline looked very sad.

"I simply must," Varric waved dismissively, turning back to the rows of corpses.

"It's my job, but not yours," Aveline did not relent. "Let me do it, and I promise to tell you if we find... anything."

"Are you saying you find it easier to do this than I would?" Varric gave her an astonished stare. "Don't give me that bronto crap."

"No, of course I do not find it easy..." the Guard-Captain sighed. "This is... the hardest thing I've ever gone through, knowing that... she must be somewhere here, amongst this rubble... but I would have to do it regardless how I feel about it. You don't."

"Well, I'll do it anyway," Varric shrugged. "So you might as well stop wasting your efforts to convince me to leave. Like I told the Knight-Something, whatever he is these days, the only way you'll going to drag me away from the scene is with force."

Aveline shrugged her shoulders. "Then I won't try to dissuade you from this pointless task. I hope you are aware that she might very well not be amongst the bodies here." Varric gave her a questioning look. "Those who were close to the blast are... damaged beyond recognition. The heat was so strong it almost melted steel. Many bodies will never be recovered."

Varric swallowed heavily, fighting away the mental images of the Chantry moments before explosion. "I'm aware of that," he recovered to snap more harshly than he had intended to. "There are things that I would... recognize. Like her jewelry." _I had given her many of those myself as gifts._

"Very well, you do have a point there. We already found this," Aveline said after a moment of pause, tossing something metallic that landed in the thin gravel at his feet.

Varric picked it up, looking at it with curiosity, staring into mangled, slightly molten face of Andraste. "I recognize that belt buckle. The butt of mine and Anders' jokes," a cold shudder passed through him. "It means that Sebastian Vael is dead. Of course he would have been here in the Chantry, with his _bride_ Elthina."

"We have not identified her as of yet," Aveline said. "But considering Sebastian never left her side, she is most assuredly dead. The Divine in Orlais will get a stroke when she finds out..."

Varric did not reply, moving on again, from one corpse to another, searching thoroughly. "You know that it might take many days, even weeks, before we find anything of Bethany's remains," Aveline said, following him around. "If we even do find anything. In the meanwhile, what of Riona? How long will you wait before following her?"

"I don't know," Varric shrugged. It was true. He really did not know.

"She needs you," Aveline said, as she turned to leave. "You can no longer do anything for Bethany. But you can still make difference for her sister. Maybe you should do that."

_Maybe I should..._ Varric gritted his teeth as he forced himself through the last row of the recovered corpses, but it yielded nothing. Bethany was not amongst them. Of course, the templars and guards working on the site recovered more and more bodies every hour. _The poor girl is probably still under all those rocks..._ Varric mused as he now proceeded to where the rescue parties were busy digging and clearing the debris, starting to work alongside them, ignoring their surprised stares, but nobody asked any questions, allowing him to go about his business.

The hour was already late when the depressing efforts were halted, the guards as well as the templars preparing to leave only to resume early on the next morning. They still had not found any sign of Bethany's fate, however, a fact that was making Varric more and more nervous.

Seeing Aveline leave the scene, having barked some last instructions to her guards, Varric quickly caught up with the Guard-Captain. "Have you given some thought to the chance that Bethany might not have been in the Chantry when the explosion happened?" he asked, starting to walk alongside her.

"I have," Aveline admitted. "But I do not like to hold on to a false hope, when there is little reason for it. Riona said Bethany would be in the Chantry and that's where she was, Varric."

"She could have left it well before the explosion occurred," Varric argued. "Maybe she was already half way to the Gallows when it went off!"

"I've thought about that, yes, but there is one good argument against it, Varric," Aveline said, shaking her head. "If Bethany survived the blast, then where is she? Varric, if she was alive, she would have made contact by now. Face it, she is no longer with us... difficult as it might be to accept."

"I suppose you are right," Varric finally admitted, having conceded that Aveline had raised a good point. "Bah, your down to earth realism is so depressingly dwarven," he managed a bitter chuckle before bidding the Guard-Captain goodnight and starting on his path back to the deadly streets of Lowtown.

His beloved part of Kirkwall had been turned into a veritable warzone, barricades on nearly every corner, forming outposts manned by either guards, templars or the hastily organized local militia, bright light of torches illuminating every dark corner to make certain any demon breaking the blockade of Darktown would be discovered instantly.

On his way to the Hanged Man, Varric made sure to stop at some of the outposts to learn more of the situation. For now, it seemed that the choke points leading out from Darktown held, but the demons were pushing relentlessly. The mages from Nevarra would arrive in two weeks, and they needed to hold out at least as long as that. The loss of life in Darktown had been great already, if the hordes of shades would overrun Lowtown and the alienage, the score of victims would grow to tens of thousands. The defenders of the city were determined not to let that happen, feeling cautiously optimistic about their chances.

After much knocking on the doors of the Hanged Man, Corff finally answered, allowing him inside, not before showering Varric with heavy cursing about his habits of wandering around at such late hour. The tavern saw barely any visitors these days, and Corff's mind really wasn't on earning profits but more about getting through this mess in one piece. Most rooms upstairs stood empty as well, Varric remaining as one of the last with the need to rent the space. The flow of visitors to the city had all but ceased.

Before returning upstairs to his apartment, Varric spent some time sitting at the bar and nursing a drink, listening to Corff's laments about the current situation and how much gold he was losing daily. "Oh yes, and some of your boys stopped by earlier," the barkeep added, having finished his rant. "Damn their lot, I really hate having to open the doors, it could be a blasted demon out there for all I know."

"I doubt a demon would be so polite as to knock, Corff my friend," Varric chuckled. "But about my contacts, did they leave me any messages?"

"Don't think so," Corff shrugged. "I'm not sure. They must have left without me seeing, too. Can't say I care!"

"Charming," Varric said, jumping down from the tall chair at the bar. "Anyway, time to retire. Hopefully I'll see your grumpy visage in the morning. Alive."

"Yeah, yeah..." Corff grumbled back as Varric started to climb the stairs, hand slipping in the pocket of his leather jacket to retrieve the key, but the doors to his apartment slid open with only a gentle push.

_Must have forgotten to lock it in the morning,_ Varric thought at himself. _In these times it's really a rather pointless habit, anyway._

At the first glance, the rooms looked to be in the same state he had left them in the morning. Varric quickly lit up a few extra candles, and then discovered that at the second glance, some things definitely were not the same as he had left them.

For example, there were a pair of short legs sticking out from behind his bed, one bent at the knee, the other straight and twitching slightly. The gruesome view was accompanied by quiet groaning of someone in great pain.

With Bianca at the ready, Varric circled around the bed and then froze at the sight. Another dwarf was lying in a pool of blood at the side of his bed, shaking in convulsions and about to expire. The face... looked familiar.

"Gerav? Gerav, is that you?" he got down on his knees next to the unfortunate victim, no doubt attacked by the demons in the streets. "What are you doing here, Gerav? By the Ancestors, it has been how many years? Bianca has been missing you, my old friend..."

"Varric? Varric... oh, thank the Stone..." the dwarf managed to speak, the effort almost too great to him. "I... didn't think I would make it..."

"What's going on, Gerav? Why did you come here... I thought Carta takes care of their own..."

"The Carta... oh, the Carta..." Gerav managed a very disturbing giggle, accompanied by heavy coughing. A quick look at the severity of his injuries made it clear to Varric that Gerav did not have much time left in this life. _Creator of Bianca. I will never forget him for that. I never expected he would one die expire in my arms..._

"Varric, the Carta... they have gone mad..." the dying dwarf rambled, starting to shake in convulsions again. "They left Kirkwall... he lured them away, and I had to follow, but... I don't know how, I managed to shake... shake it off, somehow..."

"What are you talking about?" Varric demanded. _It is true though, now that I think of it. I have not run into anyone from Carta in weeks... strange, that._

"It's not important..." Gerav managed. He was trying to raise his hand, but it fell limply back on the floor. "A map... in my pocket. Take it, Varric. Take it!"

Varric reached into the other dwarf's pocket and retrieved a smudged parchment. "Is this it?" he asked, looking at Gerav.

"Go there, Varric... save her!" Gerav exclaimed, his voice starting to grow weaker and weaker. "I swear, Varric... I did not want anything to do with it... they made me... they made me capture her..."

"Capture who?" Varric blinked, reeling back in surprise.

"Hawke..." Gerav managed, as his life was about to escape his bloodied and battered frame. "Varric... they got Hawke..."


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 3**

_9:37 Dragon  
>Royal Palace of Denerim<em>

"Well done, Cauthrien. I knew you would not let me down," Maythre, Queen of Ferelden, spoke approvingly having listened to the report made by her trusted second in command. "Even if you were aided by some good fortune, as I understand."

"Our arrival could not have been more timely, for Hawke was about to perish at the hands of some templar hunter," Cauthrien explained. "Speaking of templars, I am most interested in hearing whether Your Majesty's plans for dealing with them have come to fruition."

Maythre laughed, a little airily. "My dear Cauthrien, I would not be standing here before you, if those plans had failed. The Chantry is in ruins, most of the templars killed trying to defend the cathedral, my old friend Greagoir amongst them."

"What about the Grand Cleric herself?" Cauthrien asked, impatiently.

"I saw it prudent to allow her escape, together with small entourage of Chantry sisters. I have learned they are about to enter the passes across the Frostback Mountains," the queen said. "The mercy shown to them will confuse the Divine even more, making old Justinia hesitate in picking the target for the Exalted Marches. And while she ponders, more and more Circles will revolt against the Chantry rule, I have no doubt."

"Without the fear of the Exalted Marches, we will be free to rule this land as we please," Cauthrien allowed herself a small smile, before noticing the queen staring at her inquiringly. "A poor choice of words, I apologize. _You_ will be free to rule this land as _you_ please."

Maythre appeared to be thoughtful for a moment, but then smiled. "No, you were right the first time, Cauthrien. A queen can't rule alone without anyone loyal to trust. And who else should I trust but you?" Seeing that Cauthrien had relaxed a little at her words, she quickly continued. "Now, I imagine our guest is anxious to meet me, but before I go see Hawke, please tell me what you have learned of her. What is this Champion of Kirkwall like?"

Cauthrien hesitated a little, unsure where to begin and how to best describe their _guest_. "She proved to be... not quite what I expected myself. For someone carrying the impressive title of Champion of Kirkwall, she seems surprisingly... ordinary. I imagine she is a very skilled mage. I urge Your Majesty not to draw wrong conclusions from the fact that she had been defeated by a templar when we came upon her. Hawke had been so weakened by her illness by that point that it was a wonder she was even able to put up a fight. In fact, it speaks volumes for her force of will and stubbornness."

"I see..." Maythre nodded, her neatly manicured fingers tapping lightly against the surface of the mahogany desk. "What did you learn of her views, where do her sentiments lay? Does she approve of blood magic, of what I have done here?"

"She was very diplomatic and guarded about everything that involved Your Majesty, saying only that she respected what you have achieved. I imagine she does not know what to think of you, yet," Cauthrien explained. "From what I understand, she does not completely disapprove of blood magic, all though she does not seem comfortable with it either."

"That is good news, Cauthrien," Maythre appeared pleased. "This gives us something to work with. I wonder if she has tried blood magic herself?"

"She mentioned using it once," Cauthrien said. "To save a friend from certain death."

"Most excellent," Maythre said, rising from the table. "You know, Cauthrien, I think we can get this girl on our side. I don't think it should be too hard to get her see things my way."

"And if Your Majesty's perfectly sound arguments won't convince, I'm certain there is another way to ensure her cooperation," the general added, her face impassive.

"No... no, that would not work," Maythre shook her head resolutely. "She's a competent mage, as you said yourself. And if she's as smart as I've been led to believe, she will be keeping her guard up to block any attempts on my part. If she senses me doing that, she will never come to trust us. And then we will be forced to kill her."

"And... we wouldn't want to do that?" Cauthrien ventured, stepping aside as the Queen headed for the exit, having stopped at the mirror to make sure her appearance was acceptable.

"We definitely don't want to do that, Cauthrien. That is simply no way to treat a guest," Maythre smiled broadly as she took the general's hand. "Now take me to Hawke. It is time for me to meet the Champion in person."

* * *

><p>Riona Hawke was having a very eventful day. The ship had been moored at the Denerim harbor earlier in the afternoon and she had been led off the deck accompanied by a dozen of soldiers, which had made her feel like the most dangerous captive in the history of Ferelden. At least her hands had not been tied, but even so, the stares of onlookers as she was escorted towards the palace had been puzzled and at times condemning even if they didn't know what her supposed crimes were.<p>

Not having much of a reference, Riona found Denerim to be rather impressive. Her family had avoided coming to large cities, preferring to stick to small villages like Lothering instead. They had travelled through Denerim once when she was at the age of six or seven, and she only remembered it being incredibly filthy and rundown, full of narrow alleys of near-collapsing wooden shed like housings. It had been a quick trip through the slums then, while now she was being led through the most prestigious districts towards the palace, so the contrasting effect could not have been greater.

Even so, she was astounded by how much construction was currently under way in the capital. For a city ravaged by recent wars, she supposed this was only natural, but not all of it were simple renovations of damaged estates. Plenty of new, more attractive housings were being erected, and here and there tall spires of mage towers that she did not associate with Fereldan architecture had risen from the ground.

Now and then Riona had seen signs of very recent struggle, such as dark stains of spilled blood on the pavement or walls of houses. At first she had wondered whether the people had rebelled against the Queen, but when they arrived at the palace, from the whispers of the servants she had learned that the signs of fighting were the result of Queen Maythre and forces loyal to her throwing the last remnants of the Chantry out of the city, sending them to seek refuge in Orlais. _If I knew the Grand Cleric of Denerim was as dreadful as old Elthina, I would only cheer the Queen on,_ Riona had thought at that.

It seemed that Shilla had been assigned as her private maid, for soon after her arrival in the palace the deceptively timid looking elf had come to help her settle in the impressive guest rooms given to her and prepare her for the meeting with the Queen later in the evening. Riona was rather glad for this turn of events. Shilla seemed to like her, even if it could have simply been an act to win her trust. But even so, the elf was a veritable fountain of interesting information, keen to share it with Riona, and for that she was very grateful.

And so, several hours later in the evening, Riona found herself sharing a dinner table with the much feared and demonized Queen Maythre of Ferelden. The queen could be described as very beautiful, but in a subtle, demure way. Riona had been told of her fancy for white gowns, and the one she was currently wearing certainly was a good fit with her pale skin and hair of slightly darker shade than Riona's own. From the first sight she had appeared pure and innocent, and her quiet, gentle voice added to the image, yet the words that came out of her rosy lips were full of distilled practicality.

"I'm sure you are wondering why I asked you to come to Denerim," the Queen told her once they had sat down on a cushy sofa, after Cauthrien had introduced them and then quickly left them alone in one of the many studies on the western wing of the palace.

They had agreed to dispense with their titles, something Riona was more than happy about, not much caring to be addressed as a Champion. Maythre seemed to feel similarly; when she had extended her hand to Riona previously, Riona had hesitated, not sure whether she was expected to bend down on her knees and kiss it. Seeing her indecision, Maythre had quickly grabbed her hand for a soft squeeze, reaffirming herself as a woman of action, rather than woman of pointless ceremonies.

"That thought has crossed my mind," Riona admitted. "Of course, I was on my way to Ostwick, having fled Kirkwall. In some respect, Ferelden might be safer for me than any place in the Free Marches, so I'm not exactly disappointed for this little side trip." Appearing hostile for being dragged to Denerim against her wishes was not to her benefit; she knew her only chances lay with gaining the Queen's trust.

"You were forced to flee Kirkwall?" Maythre seemed a little surprised, but also irritated that her sources hadn't mentioned that. "This is news to me. Tell me what caused it."

"I don't think mages are going to be awfully popular in Kirkwall for some time, after one of them blew up the Chantry," Riona explained. Maythre nodded, indicating she knew as much. "The templars told me to leave the city, giving me a little head start before they chased me down again. Perhaps you remember the one now left in charge after Knight-Commander Meredith's death, a man named Cullen?"

Something passed across Maythre's face, like a swift flash of pain and anger. "I remember him well," she said, her voice tense. With surprise, Riona noticed that even the color of her light brown, amber irises had somehow shifted to burn deep green. Then the emotion passed, and her eyes seemed to return back to normal. _I must have imagined that. Probably the light in this place, playing tricks on me,_ Riona thought, a little startled at what she had seen.

"Of course, there is certain irony in that the templars in Kirkwall will still need aid of the mages if they want to repair rifts in the Veil and prevent the city from constantly getting attacked by escaping demons," Riona eventually continued.

"Rifts in the Veil?" Maythre shook her head, appearing a little confused, and disliking it. "Somehow I feel you will need to start at the very beginning for this all to make some sense."

"Very well, but you were about to tell me why you are so interested in the entire affair," Riona pointed out.

"Yes, so I did," Maythre nodded. "Consider this. I have overthrown the established order here in Ferelden, freeing the mages and crushing the Chantry in the process. Then something very similar suddenly happens in Kirkwall, so similar that many are pointing fingers in my direction, accusing me of somehow influencing the events in the Free Marches. And nothing could be farther from the truth, I swear to you."

"I know," Riona nodded. She believed this much at least.

"But the way these events resemble each other, it makes me want to learn more about what truly happened in Kirkwall. How did it all start? Who orchestrated these events?" the queen asked.

Riona fell silent for a moment. How much was safe to tell to the queen who appeared to be on the same side as she was? Was it safe to mention Flemeth? Riona sensed that what Flemeth had revealed to her had been for her ears only. The old witch would not approve of her spreading the tale further. "I'm not sure where to begin, to tell you the truth," she inserted quickly, as she continued her ponderings, seeing that Maythre was starting to grow impatient at her hesitation.

Flemeth was of Ferelden and had made her lair in the Korcari Wilds. According to Bodahn, the Warden had crossed paths with Flemeth before, but just what had passed between them, Riona did not know. No, until she knew more of what had been Maythre's involvement with Flemeth, Riona decided not to mention anything related to the 'old woman with white horns'.

"Just start somewhere," Maythre said, forcing her to cut the musings short. "I will let you know if anything is unclear or if I need to know something in more detail."

"Very well..." Riona shifted in the sofa, settling in more comfortably before she started her tale. "I can think of... three unrelated events that when combined led to the breaking point. First was a conspiracy between some mages in the Gallows of Kirkwall and several magisters in Minrathous, with the aim to break ancient seals below Kirkwall and let loose an army of demons upon the city. Secondly, the Knight-Commander Meredith coming in possession of a corrupted lyrium idol from the Deep Roads, and falling prey to its dark magic, twisting her mind completely. And lastly, an apostate from Ferelden, a man named Anders... my former companion, who secretly, without me knowing, hatched the terrible plan to blow up the Chantry in Kirkwall."

"Anders?" Maythre looked surprised. "I never thought he had something like that in him."

"Well, you didn't know he carried with him a Fade spirit, possessing him," Riona said. "I don't know the origins of their strange bond. He only mentioned that it happened in Amaranthine, but I know nothing beyond that."

"That must have happened during one of his many escapes from the Circle Tower. How futile those were, with his phylactery still locked up in the vaults," Maythre shook her head. "He was a few years older than me, and we never even truly spoke with each other, but I knew who he was. And he was driving Greagoir and the other templars mad, which I approved of."

"Should I concentrate on Anders for now?" Riona asked. Painful as it was to speak of anything related to the young Warden, at least she would not have to worry about mentioning Flemeth.

"Yes, please," Maythre nodded. "Start from the beginning, tell me how you came to meet him."

"I first met Anders six years ago," Riona started the tale. "I was introduced to him by a friend, who at that time was also my business partner. We were looking to join an expedition to plunder the riches of the Deep Roads, and we needed aid to find entrances leading into the dwarven passageways. We sought out the only Grey Warden in Kirkwall."

"Surely you don't mean Anders?" Maythre looked very surprised. "He's no Grey Warden!"

"He was by the time he showed up in Kirkwall. I never found out how that happened either, but I suspect that too was during the time he spent in Amaranthine," Riona shrugged. _I never thought to ask him that, how dumb of me! He must have told Varric at least, ah, if only I could ask him at least!_ "He wasn't exactly happy with being a Warden, though, so he was not only running from the templars, he was also trying to escape the Wardens as well."

Maythre looked very thoughtful. "I remember hearing of some events in the Arling of Amaranthine, during my time of... forced exile at Anora's behest. I should seek some records on what exactly transpired there..." she added quietly, as if spoken only to herself.

"Shall I continue?" Riona asked.

"Did you mention that you needed Anders' help to enter the Deep Roads?" Maythre asked suddenly. Riona nodded. "And the idol that corrupted the Knight-Commander came from the Deep Roads?"

"...well, yes, recovered by our expedition," Riona admitted. "But I don't see how that could be related-"

"Let me worry about that, dear Riona," Maythre smiled warmly. "Please, do go on."

Riona found it hard to recompose herself all of a sudden. As she continued with her tale, stumbling along the way, it almost felt as Maythre was pulling the story out of her with her precise and relevant inquiries. Riona herself felt too overwhelmed with the implication of Maythre's suggestion that the two events might after all be related. And if they were, that could have been work of only one individual. Flemeth.

_But that is insane to suggest that Anders conveniently showed up in Kirkwall just because we needed someone who could point us to the Deep Roads entrances. All though... I suppose that could have been possible to organize... after all, she managed to get us where she needed us, on Sundermount to resurrect her. Yes... she could have done that. _

_Could she have predicted that he would blow up the Chantry, though?_ The thought seemed so mad to Riona, she couldn't believe she was seriously considering it. _No, that's just impossible. The idea must have occurred to Anders on his own, nobody planted it in his head. Well, except maybe Justice, or should I say, Vengeance. That she would just whisper in his ear that he should go and blow up the Chantry is simply ridiculous._

_Then again... she managed to get me to do __**exactly**__ what she needed me to do._

"I see you are becoming tired and losing concentration," Maythre's voice shook her out of her heavy thoughts, making her realize she had fallen silent for a long while. "The trip must have been draining, and I understand you are still recovering from a serious illness. I should allow you to rest."

"I am sorry," Riona bowed her head apologetically. "I do admit feeling very weary."

"That is understandable. We shall continue tomorrow," Maythre rose from the sofa, reaching out and helping her straighten her tired frame as well. "I hope you understand why I must ask you to cooperate in this. The world around us is changing, and the one who will better make sense of all the deep undercurrents stands the best chance at emerging on top."

"I understand... I think. And I don't mind helping, really. I'm just feeling a little woozy right now..." however, Maythre's next words would instantly wipe out all of Riona's tiredness, sending her back to her chambers shaking with fear, cold ancient dread gripping her as if from beyond the Veil.

"I'm glad you see things my way, Riona," Maythre said, her eyes minutely flashing green again. "For we stand on the precipice of a change..."


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 4**

_9:37 Dragon  
>City of Kirkwall<em>

Morning could not come soon enough for Varric, pacing anxiously around his suite at the Hanged Man. He had not slept a moment that night, checking Gerav's maps again and again, for what must have been at least twenty times. Carta had kidnapped Hawke, for some reason, and taken her... wherever it was that the map pointed at, middle of the Vimmark wasteland.

Nothing about what Gerav had told him made sense. Nothing at all. The Carta had no reason to attack Hawke. They had even less of a reason to drag her out into the dead wastes miles outside Kirkwall, where nobody ever ventured. Carta simply did not work like that! And yet... Gerav was one of the very few amongst the Carta that Varric could not dismiss easily.

And if Hawke was captured by Carta... he could not truly hope to rescue her all by himself. He needed help, and the only ones to ask were Aveline and her guards, busy keeping the demons away from Lowtown. Hoping that the Guard-Captain would still place prerogative on rescuing one of her dearest friends, Varric rushed towards the Viscount's Keep at an ungodly early hour of the morning, hoping to intercept the redhead as soon as she appeared at her office.

Dispensing with unnecessary courtesies like knocking, Varric barged into the Guard-Captain's headquarters, finding her and Knight-Captain Cullen leaning over a large map of Lowtown that covered the entirety of Aveline's desk. "It seems the attacks have increased in this region, so we should reinforce the area with..." Aveline's speech was interrupted by the dwarf's entrance and she reared her head to face him with a glare. "Do you mind?" she snapped.

"Don't you people ever sleep?" Varric wondered, staring at both captains. "Anyway, we've got a situation, Aveline."

"Yes, yes we do!" Aveline shouted, stabbing the map with her finger. "And we're dealing with it! Now get out!"

"It's Hawke!" Varric raised his voice in return.

Aveline's eyes widened immediately. "What are you talking about?" she asked.

"I heard from a contact within the Carta," Varric explained quickly. "They must have jumped her outside Kirkwall. She's being kept at some base outside the city." _Better not to mention the Vimmark Wastes. They'll never believe me and I will never get any help then!_

"This source of yours, how credible is it?" Cullen turned to ask him.

"Only someone who doesn't know me very well would ask a silly question like that," Varric scoffed. "It's not a hoax. This is real and I'm going after her, but I need help. Aveline..." he looked at the Guard-Captain, realizing that he was appearing pleading. "I know the guards are stretched thin, but maybe you can spare a few good men. I don't think I can do this alone."

"You're really certain about this?" Aveline asked. Varric nodded in reply. The Guard-Captain appeared thoughtful, pondering her reply. "I will go myself," she decided then. "I do not want to start a wide-scale war between the Guard and the Carta. We get in quickly and silently, free Hawke and get out. She's my best friend. I can't let anyone else do this."

"Two of us might still not cut it," Varric remarked. _I was wrong to doubt her, really. Hawke once said that she trusted Aveline utterly and completely. I'm starting to see why._

"I could maybe take one or two of-" Aveline started to speak, but found herself interrupted by Cullen.

"I will accompany you," the Knight-Captain said suddenly. "I chased Hawke outside the city. This is a result of my actions, and it should be up to me to fix this."

"Can't argue with you there," Varric agreed with a nod.

"I can leave Keran and Margitte in charge while we are away," Cullen mused. "They are competent enough. I will tell them to coordinate their actions with your men, Aveline."

"Donnic will be in charge of the Lowtown defenses," Aveline decided. "Eustice will oversee the search parties at Hightown. I will need two hours to pass all information to them," she said, turning back to Varric.

"I can meet you in two hours at the gates of the city as well," Cullen nodded.

"Good, good," Varric said, rubbing his hands. "Two hours. North gate out of Kirkwall."

* * *

><p><em>A day later, in the Vimmark Wasteland<em>

"You've got to be kidding me..." Aveline groaned, staring in the distance, nothing but barren hills and dunes of sand to their view.

"I know, I couldn't believe it myself," Varric agreed, examining the map again. He couldn't help getting worried, starting to doubt Gerav's far-fetched story. "Still, it has to be here. Something's got to be here..."

"I hope this is not a wild goose chase, Ser Dwarf," Cullen gave him a suspicious look before bringing a water canteen to his lips. "I will not be pleased if you have dragged us away from Kirkwall for nothing."

"Bah, you of so little faith," Varric waved them off dismissively. "Let's see... I think we should be half-mile to the east... wait, what's this?" He turned to his left and squinted in the distance. Something was there, breaking the monotonous landscape of rocks and sand.

Quickly they advanced towards the man-made formation of rocks, which turned out to be a part of a collapsed ancient highway. Inspired by their discovery, they started to walk the old road, until they came across something even more surprising. Ahead of them burned several carts of an ambushed caravan, two brontos and half a dozen dwarves lying dead amongst smashed crates.

"These madmen kill their own?" Cullen wondered.

"No," Varric shook his head, having examined the corpses. "The Carta wouldn't do that. This is a Merchant's Guild caravan."

"Still, it seems we owe you apology," Aveline said. "There is definitely something amiss here. Your contact appears to have been onto something after all."

"But we still need to find their base..." Cullen started to speak, but then fell silent as he turned around to face westwards. A trail led downwards away from the road and through a deep ravine towards a collection of large rocks that had eroded in the wind so as to form almost like standing humanoid figures. Between the rocks there was a wide gap that almost appeared like a looming artificially created gateway.

"I suppose we should start looking there," Varric said, then shaking his head in incomprehension. "This is so strange, though. Nobody should be here! There shouldn't even be a 'here'!"

"Let's just get to the bottom of this so we can return to Kirkwall and fix the mess there," Aveline said determinedly, starting to walk down the path leading into the deep ravine.

"I just hope we don't immediately alert the Carta of our presence," Varric grumbled. "You two are not exactly built for stealth."

"Why would you say that?" Cullen clanked heavily while walking alongside the dwarf.

"Never mind..." Varric sighed, looking around with concern as they walked. The path along the ravine led them towards the gate, now revealing high rock palisades with metal spikes on top of them, spreading on both sides as they walked. "This is... weird. Who built this?" he wondered, looking past the gate, row of pillars lining alongside the road ahead.

"It looks quite old," Cullen shrugged. "Solid workmanship. It could be the work of the magisters, perhaps. Something forgotten from the era of the Imperium?"

Varric pondered on that for a while, inwardly admitting that Cullen wasn't entirely dim-witted and his suggestion had merit. Aveline, however, did not seem interested in a discussion over the mysterious origins of these ruins and simply plowed ahead, forcing both men to drop their chatter and quickly catch up.

The pillar lined pathway soon ended, leading them out into a more open area. In front of them now were rows of wooden fortifications, a rickety gate of wooden boards barring their progress. "I wonder if these wooden structures are of the same time as the rest," Cullen mused, coming up to the gate and poking it. It opened with an uncomfortably loud creak.

"It might be," Varric said. "This place is like a desert. The weather is always the same, and it never rains. Wood might remain well preserved for ages."

"Who cares?" Aveline shrugged, passing through the gate and into an open square. "We're not here to discuss architecture, we're here to... watch out!" she suddenly jumped to the side, pushing Cullen away as well, as an angry bronto charged them seemingly out of nowhere.

Having missed its initial charge, the bronto spun around, then deciding to try his luck at squishing Varric against the stone frame of the gate. The dwarf was well prepared, however, jumping aside with a moment to spare, and the large animal could not stop itself in time, crashing into the gate and wobbling on its feet from the heavy impact. Cullen was onto it immediately, putting his sword through its nape. The bronto roared in pain, twitching and then slowly toppling over and falling on its side.

"Damned Carta, can't even properly tie their own brontos," Aveline muttered, looking around to see if the animal's cry had alerted anyone. It had certainly been loud enough to wake the dead, so it was a small wonder that an army of dwarves hadn't charged them yet.

"We better move fast," Varric suggested, pointing at another wooden gate ahead. "That seems the only way forward." Behind the gate, the pathway continued, surrounded tightly on both sides with carved stone blocks and the occasional ruined structure, most likely a guard outpost. Still, there was no sign of Carta here and so they continued, looking around cautiously, realizing that their advance was not exactly as subtle as they had hoped for.

After a while of walking, it was Aveline, walking in front, who suddenly stopped to point ahead. "What... is that?"

Varric peered in the direction Aveline faced, cursing his perfectly excellent dwarven height. Still, despite his lack of a human sized stature, he could just about make out a... strange domed roof of a large structure behind the lines of fortifications ahead of them. If his eyes did not deceive him, surrounding the domed roof were definitive dwarven-themed ornaments. "Dwarven handiwork," he stated after more staring.

"Some sort of dwarven fortress then?" Cullen wondered. "So close to the surface?"

"I know as much as you do, Knight-Captain," Varric shrugged. "In this case, it is nothing. Let's try to get closer. I believe that is where we will find the Carta... and hopefully Hawke."

The road continued to weave forward through rows of empty stone fortifications, until suddenly the walls disappeared on their right, revealing a massive chasm below. Varric walked as close to its edge as he could to stare downwards, but he could not even see the bottom, murky darkness was all he could discern. There was something... malevolent, about this place, and the feeling suddenly felt so overpowering, making him stagger. Only Cullen's firm hand pulled him back away from the edge of the chasm.

"Careful there, Varric," the templar said, looking at him with concern.

"For a moment there..." Varric started to speak, then something he saw immediately made him freeze and shout out a warning. "Aveline! Stop!"

The redhead, much to her credit, reacted immediately, halting her step and pulling back. Varric was quick on his way to disarm the pressure plate, carefully hidden to trigger an ancient deadly trap that would have sawn Aveline's foot off at the ankle. "Interesting..." he remarked as he got back to his feet. "The mechanism itself is old, but some of the springs have been replaced very recently. I think the Carta are trying to dissuade any visitors from entering this place..."

"They will not keep us out," Aveline said. "But perhaps you should scout ahead for more traps. And thank you, Varric."

"Don't mention it," Varric shrugged and then set down the stone steps leading them lower and lower into a series of open squares and guard outposts. _What a perfect setting for an ambush,_ he thought while leading the others through the open space, slightly wondering when no attack came. _I guess they have Hawke and do not expect anyone to come after her. If she got taken from the Wounded Coast, of course they would think that she had no chance to pass a message._

Just then Varric heard quiet voices coming from one of the guard outposts. He motioned for Aveline and Cullen to remain behind as he crawled closer to the doors and tried to overhear the dwarves chatting inside the building. After good ten minutes of listening, he retreated back to Aveline and Cullen in relative safety, shaking his head in confusion.

"What did you hear?" Aveline pressed.

"Some crazy nonsense," Varric replied. "Something about needing the blood of the Hawke for... I have no idea what. They seemed... not truly themselves. The Carta aren't supposed to be like this! They are businessmen first and foremost, them being here and involved in... whatever this is, it makes no sense."

"And yet here they are," Cullen simply said. "Did you hear anything else?"

"Yes. Someone named Corypheus demanded they bring Hawke to them," Varric said, looking grim.

"Corypheus. That's... not really a dwarven name," Aveline remarked with surprise.

"It's not. The leader of the Carta in Kirkwall is Rhatigan. Whoever this Corypheus is... he has somehow managed to make the Carta work for him. And that is... worrying," Varric said.

"It doesn't change anything, though," Cullen said after a moment of pause. "We must save Hawke."

"That we must," Varric agreed. "Now, past these outposts there is another gate that leads even lower and into the main fortress, I think that's where we must go. Let's try sneaking past these guards, who I must say do not seem to be expecting us at all."

Even if Varric had feared that Cullen's or Aveline's efforts at sneaking would end in disaster, somehow they managed to reach yet another gate without alerting the snoozing Carta guards. As they walked onwards, they could get a better view at the strange fortress, rising up from the depths of the chasm. It was definitely dwarven made, even if this particular realization did not bring any peace to Varric.

"Look at those statues on the top level," Cullen pointed at the weird structure. "Griffons, are they not? And they all seem to be... channeling something towards the middle of the floor?"

"There does not seem to be a way to reach that place," Aveline remarked.

"Somehow I suspect that we will need to climb down to the bottom of the chasm on this side, cross it and then climb back up all the way on the opposite side..." Varric remarked, feeling distinctively glum. "That would be just fitting."

"Perhaps they are keeping Hawke somewhere closer," Cullen suggested, trying to sound optimistic.

"You're new at this adventuring business, aren't you Knight-Captain?" Varric turned to Cullen with sardonic chuckle.

"What did he mean by that?" the templar turned to Aveline, who had burst out in an uncharacteristic fit of snickering.

"Only that you should always expect the worst," she smiled, brushing past Cullen in order to follow Varric down the path.

After a few more deadly traps slowing their passage had been disarmed, they finally rounded a bend and came to face a looming dark entrance leading deeper into the fortress itself. "Finally," Varric remarked. "I imagine they have camped inside, so be ready. But at least we won't be stuck outside in plain sight like sitting ducks," he said, proceeding towards the entrance.

The dungeons below were rather reminiscent of an old Tevinter mine, much like Darktown's twisted passages. Crates lay scattered everywhere, rusty rails ran alongside the pathways, old carts filled with junk abandoned and often blocking their way. Two dwarves were guarding this entrance, but one was sleeping and the other not terribly diligent, failing to either give a shout or grab his weapon before Bianca's bolt in the throat silenced him. Aveline's heavy punch knocked the sleeping dwarf unconscious, as he rolled around with a quiet moan.

Varric swiftly went through their possessions, finding nothing of interest except an old letter that one of the dwarves must have found in the fortress. "Listen to this," he quietly told his companions. "Some kind of an old scout's report. They thought this was an old Grey Warden fortress."

"Grey Warden fortress, here?" Aveline blinked. "It hardly seems strategically sound! Well, unless... that chasm is deep enough to reach into the Deep Roads." She shuddered slightly from the realization.

"It would certainly explain the griffons on that top level," Cullen made an astute remark.

"I'm sure we'll learn more as we go on," Aveline nodded, turning back to Varric. "Lead on."

After crawling around the dungeons for a while, Varric again stopped them to sneak ahead and attempt to overhear some of the Carta guards in their quiet conversation. When he eventually returned to the others, he looked even more confused than before. "More muttering about this Master of theirs. Corypheus, who is that guy? And about Hawke too, needing her blood for some kind of... key? This isn't right. And definitely not good."

"How many of them?" Aveline asked, pointing ahead.

"Six, but only two are awake," Varric said, leading them onwards. "I'll pick them off from the distance, you get in fast and silence the others as they wake up."

"Understood," Cullen nodded, readying his sword.

The next group of dwarves fell with a minimum of fuss, and without raising too much noise. After the battle, Varric again searched their possessions, finding nothing of importance, however, Aveline tore off a piece of parchment that had been nailed to the wall and studied it with puzzled expression on her face. "Praise Corypheus!" she read. "What is the Carta beside Corypheus? Nothing but dust and ashes. Only Corypheus is eternal. We are the ones he honored with his trust, to dig him out of his prison in the Deep Roads..."

"It's starting to make sense," Varric said grimly. "They have been somehow enslaved by some powerful... being, they are mind controlled. Otherwise the Carta would not do anything like this! I said they were out of their minds, and now it seems I was more right than I knew."

"Could Corypheus be some powerful demon, perhaps?" Cullen mused. "If so, then the duty would fall on us to destroy it. If it can enslave the Carta... perhaps it can enslave entire nations?"

"And if it is that powerful, what are our chances of defeating it..." Aveline said, shifting uncomfortably.

"Still, if he's got Hawke, we must try," Varric spoke, turning around to march onwards through the darkened tunnels. "I sure would like to know what the deal with needing her blood is... it's not exactly reassuring."

"I think I might shed some light on that..." Cullen said. He was busy trying to read from a leather bound journal as they walked on. "Malcolm Hawke... perhaps her father?"

"Yes, that's right!" Aveline exclaimed. "But how did you know? What else is there?"

"Could I have that?" Varric asked, reaching out to claim the journal from Cullen. "Hmm, this seems to belong to someone high in the Carta. Maybe Rhatigan himself. Talks about Warden's not guarding the key with proper care... _It will not wake at my touch, the Great One says it requires Malcolm Hawke's blood to awaken it._ Well, that's just great."

"They need Hawke's blood to awaken some kind of ancient evil..." Aveline shuddered. "Cullen is right, we must stop this... whatever it is."

Having removed a few more patrols and groups of unsuspecting dwarves, the group of three reached a larger chamber which appeared to serve as impromptu headquarters for the Carta. Varric immediately gesticulated to the others, ordering them to keep quiet as he stealthily observed the hall before them. Several tents had been erected there, and many dwarves slept soundly inside, so it was difficult to judge their numbers, but Varric estimated there could be up to twenty of them. Five or six were up on their feet, walking around and talking animatedly, debating over something, listening to what seemed to be their leader, holding in his hands an object that looked like an elaborate mage staff.

_That's Rhatigan,_ Varric realized. _What's he doing with a staff like that, though? He's no mage..._ His eyes then fell to one of the tall wooden support beams at the far end of the hall. Someone was tied to it, but he could not see their face, only their hands turned out on their back, as someone would tie up a mage to prevent them from casting spells. The figure seemed tall, human, not a dwarf. _Hawke! Hold on, Hawke, we're coming for you!_ He was all trembling with nerves and excitement. _I hope she's still alive. She has to be, why else tie her like this..._

After some time of watching and thinking, Varric returned to his two companions, who faced him with questioning stares. "I saw Hawke," he explained quietly. "She's tied to a pillar down there, alive. I think. Bad news, there are a lot of those dwarves with her."

"We could do with an element of surprise to even out the odds. I'm not sure we can take on as many," Aveline said thoughtfully. Cullen gave her a blank stare, shrugging his shoulders.

"I don't see many options, unless you're willing to risk something mad," Varric said. Aveline just sighed but did not voice any objections, then nodding for him to elaborate. "This dry wood is very combustible. If we were to set fire to it, everything would go up in flames very quickly, creating panic."

"It would also cut off our exit, my friend," Cullen shook his head. "It is too risky."

"That is likely, yes," Varric said, looking unhappy about what he was about to suggest. "But there's another option. I saw a large stairway, cut in the very stone itself, leading to the lower reaches of the fortress. Fire won't follow us down there."

"...and we would still be trapped," Aveline spoke grimly. "That's not much of a plan, Varric."

"Look, you said that this Corypheus needs to be put down, whatever he is, right? He's down there, so we would have to go there anyway! Besides..." Varric added, after a little pause. "I don't think Hawke has much time. The leader, Rhatigan, is ranting something that they should wait no longer and just use the blood to fix the key themselves..."

"I think that settles it," Cullen nodded. "I vote we do as Varric suggests."

"Fine, fine!" Aveline threw her arms up in the air, admitting defeat. "Just don't complain if you get horribly killed."

"It's a promise," Varric chuckled, withdrawing something from the many pouches at his belt, quickly working to hook together several gadgets and ingredients. "Fire grenades," he explained, seeing the curious faces of the others. "They'll never know what hit them..."

They crawled as close as they could to the Carta encampment, getting in position to charge. On Aveline's silent command, Varric threw three grenades in a wide arc, each one hitting a tent and immediately setting it on fire. Screams of pain and surprise broke out as they charged down the stairs, Aveline and Cullen engaging the surprised dwarves and clearing Varric's way towards Hawke, the dwarf speeding towards the bound mage with a dagger in his hands, ready to cut the ropes holding her in place.

The whole room soon became a sea of fire and blood as the dwarves charged out of the burning tents, getting quickly skewered by Aveline's and Cullen's swords. Rhatigan and a few others tried to rally, putting up brave resistance, but the two warriors pushed them back, allowing Varric to swiftly reach Hawke. "Quickly!" Aveline yelled. "Cut the ropes and we can still get out of here alive!"

Varric darted around the support beam, reaching out to remove the gag from Hawke's mouth... and then recoiled as if someone had kicked him in the groin, the knife dropping on the wooden floorboards. "...by the Ancestors..." he managed a whisper.

"Damn you, Varric! Will you hurry up?" Aveline shouted, trying to keep the dwarves back.

"Aveline... it's a Hawke, alright," Varric said quietly, reaching for the knife and starting to finally cut the cords. "But it's not Riona. It's... Bethany!"


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 5**

_9:37 Dragon  
>Royal Palace of Denerim<em>

Riona slept very little the following night after her conversation with Queen Maythre. Her dreams were wild and scattered, she could only remember broken images of herself running, never seeing from what or why, but the pervasive sense of fear lingered as she finally broke out of restless slumber. Stretching in bed, she became aware of tantalizing smells tickling her nostrils, the scent of freshly baked bread and herbal tea reminding her of the growling hunger in her stomach.

She rose in the bed, then nearly yelped from fright when she saw a figure of someone hunched over the low table few yards from the foot of her bed. "Oh... it's you Shilla," she sighed, letting out a breath of relief. "You managed to frighten me."

"My apologies, Mistress. I heard some tossing and turning inside the room and thought you were awake. So I decided to bring up a simple breakfast," the elf moved away from the flower decorated table and bowed. "With compliments from the Palace chef."

"Very thoughtful, thank you," Riona said. "And I must remark on your outstanding hearing yet again. A valuable talent to have in your position, no doubt."

"Mistress is too kind," Shilla curtsied, blushing a little.

"Perhaps later you could prepare a bath for me," Riona said, grimacing at the unpleasant feeling of the nightgown clinging to her sweaty skin, testament of the restless night. She got out of the bed and settled at the table to quickly devour the delicious looking meal.

"I will see to that," the elf nodded, then giving her an expectant look. "Anything else I can help with?"

Riona thought for a moment. "Actually... I've no idea what I'm expected to do today. Is there anything I should attend to or..."

"Nothing for now, Mistress. Her Majesty will be busy all morning, dealing with state matters."

"Ah, no doubt listening to some pleas and demands of desperate vassals," Riona chuckled.

"Not quite," Shilla smiled in reply. "She's attending several executions. Some of the templars were taken alive."

"...charming," Riona commented with a slight shiver. Not that she had any love for the Chantry lapdogs, but still, the matter-of-factly delivery of the line was a tiny bit unsettling.

"I imagine Queen Maythre will want you to join her for dinner in the evening," Shilla continued. "I understand your conversation yesterday went rather well."

"Your hearing is outstanding, like I already said," Riona looked at the elf.

"Oh... oh no, I would not dare to risk listening in on Her Majesty," Shilla had paled white like chalk, looking mortified. "I simply concluded that from, well, you being alive and Her Majesty appearing in good spirits this morning."

"I see," Riona smiled, returning her attention to the breakfast. _This girl probably knows a great deal of interesting information. I should get her to share some of it. But... what if she's going to report back to the Queen? Or worse, what if her loyalty has been ensured by some wicked blood magic spell playing havoc with her mind? _Riona looked at Shilla again, noticing that the servant-healer was about to leave the room. "Wait please, Shilla," she called out quickly, before the elven girl had managed to close the doors behind her.

_She's a skilled mage, she would probably be able to block all attempts to intrude in her head. I could try to sense the blood possession somehow, too... and I could just avoid asking suspicious questions at first._ "I was wondering..." she started, idly brushing back a stray lock of her hair as she spoke.

"Yes, Mistress?" Shilla asked, swiftly returning to the room.

"Please, sit with me for a while, Shilla," Riona said with a smile, pointing at a chair opposite to her. The elven girl looked indecisive for a moment, but then her curiosity won and she sat down, answering Riona's smile with her own. "I must admit... after talking with Her Majesty Queen Maythre, I find myself very fascinated with her persona."

"That is very understandable, Mistress," Shilla nodded with an approving look. "She has done wonderful things for our people, and for the mages. It is only natural to look up to her and what she has achieved."

"Yes, but... you see, I wish to know more about her, more than what little I've been told," Riona continued. "I could ask her, I suppose, but she has brought me here to learn of everything that happened in the Free Marches, and I can sense she is not interested in wasting her time telling me all about her exploits." _Not to mention that she would get awfully suspicious about such prodding._

"That is true, Her Majesty does not like to speak of the past, I've been told," Shilla agreed. "She might not look kindly upon someone attempting to shake the cobwebs, so to speak."

"Oh, I'm sorry for asking then," Riona looked apologetically at the elf. "Forget everything I've said; I would not want to get you in trouble."

Shilla hesitated, looking a little guilty. "Oh... don't worry about that, Mistress. It is just harmless talking, no need to mention it to Her Majesty, she has more important things to worry about than our idle gossip!" They smiled at each other again before the elven girl continued. "What do you wish to know, Mistress? Perhaps I will be able to satisfy your curiosity."

"I am interested in the Queen's adventures as a Grey Warden, from the point she left the Circle of Magi to the final battle with the archdemon in Denerim." _If she crossed paths with Flemeth at some point, it was during that time. I know she did at least once, Bodahn mentioned it. Why oh why I didn't press him for more stories about Maythre?_ "The news from Ferelden were very scarce during that time in the Free Marches, so the whole story of the Fifth Blight is almost a complete mystery. Perhaps there is a written account of it to be read?"

"Ah... I would doubt the accuracy of such account," Shilla shook her head vigorously. "They were heavily edited after Anora claimed the crown and imprisoned Her Majesty. And Queen Maythre has never bothered to make sure a historically accurate version of the events is recorded. Like I said before, she prefers the past to be forgotten."

Riona made an effort to appear frustrated and disappointed. "So, there actually is no way to learn more about her travels, is there..."

"Well..." Shilla started, looking thoughtful. "Her companions, those who travelled with her during those days, they would be the only ones who could tell you such stories. Unfortunately, some of them have perished over the years."

Riona felt a light shudder pass through her. _Is she trying to cover her tracks? Perhaps I have good reasons to be very worried._ "Perished? But not all of them, surely?" she asked.

"Master Zevran, an Antivan assassin of great skill, disappeared not even two years ago," Shilla started to explain. "He was still in Her Majesty's employ at that time. Nobody knows what happened to him, there was no corpse, no funeral, but the Queen simply said he was gone and that was the end of it."

"Then there was her mabari dog, Biscuit," Shilla continued. "I have heard the dog died in Redcliffe, while Her Majesty was imprisoned by Anora. The mabari tend to suffer very badly if parted from their owners for long period of time."

"That's very sad, but... I couldn't have learned much from poor old Biscuit anyway," Riona said. "Perhaps Spot could have had a dog-talk with Biscuit, but..."

"Then there was a qunari Sten," Shilla went on with the list of Maythre's former companions. "After the defeat of the archdemon, he disappeared from Denerim. It is likely he has returned home to Par Vollen."

"Another dead end..." Riona sighed.

"An Orlesian bard, Leliana, was also one of Her Majesty's friends, but she disappeared from Arl Eamon's castle in Redcliffe under strange circumstances. Nobody knows about her fate," Shilla explained further. "The same can be said about Morrigan, a mysterious apostate of unknown origins who left the group on the eve of battle with the archdemon."

_Did she silence them both for some reason?_ Riona wondered desperately. "Mysterious apostate of unknown origins? Surely more has to be known about this woman?" she asked.

"Well... I feel foolish merely for mentioning such silly folk legends, but... some have claimed she was the daughter of the mysterious Witch of the Wilds," Shilla said, laughing awkwardly. "Mistress would be surprised how many people believe that Flemeth is indeed real."

_Maythre travelled with Flemeth's daughter? That's it! There is a link and this must be it!_ Frantic thoughts raced through Riona's head as she tried to recompose herself, not wanting to appear rattled in front of Shilla. "Yes..." Riona also tried to chuckle. "Flemeth's daughter? That seems a little too fanciful to believe."

"Yes, as I said, I feel silly for even mentioning it," Shilla nodded. "I'm afraid there's only one other companion to mention. Alistair, King Maric's bastard son, who tried to wrestle the crown of Ferelden for himself at the Landsmeet. His efforts were in vain, however, and while Anora called for his execution, Queen Maythre arranged for his rescue from Fort Drakon. Ser Cauthrien was tasked to bring him to safety in Nevarra, and I understand he is still in exile. For his sake I hope he stays away, he would not be welcome back in Ferelden. There were rumors of him being seen in the Free Marches at some point, perhaps Mistress has ran into him without knowing he was a former pretender to the Fereldan throne."

"I hope I haven't run into him, most people I came across ended up dead or worse," Riona chuckled darkly. _Damn, this Alistair sounds like the perfect source of information on these events. Typical that he's beyond my reach, as is Bodahn now._

"I'm sorry to disappoint you, Mistress, but it seems there truly is no one else to turn to," Shilla said, looking slightly saddened. "Ser Cauthrien was... on the opposing side, during those times, so I don't think she would be able to tell you much."

"I doubt I'd even be able to get her to talk," Riona shook her head, thinking of other options. "What about some records at the Circle of Magi? Could there be anything left there?"

"Afraid not, Mistress," Shilla said, rising from her seat. "All records were purged after the Right of Annulment during the Blight. There is nothing left there. And the trip to Lake Calenhad is lengthy, it is not advised that you leave Denerim for now."

"Am I a prisoner here?" Riona asked, her voice a little harsher.

"Of... of course not," Shilla looked affronted. "But leaving the city or disappearing would be very insulting towards Her Majesty, and I'm sure Mistress does not want to offend her gracious hostess."

"Oh, I would not dare to do that... but I can leave the Palace freely, yes?" Riona asked. "I would like to take my dog and go see the city at some point."

"Mistress is free to do so, of course, but please be advised that Her Majesty will want to see you in the evening," Shilla added as she was about to leave. "If you go looking for your dog, I last saw him chasing squirrels in the Palace gardens."

"Thank you, Shilla, that is all," Riona said. "Now, if you could see about that bath..."

"I'll see to it immediately," the elven servant turned to leave, but then froze on the doorstep, turning back. "I completely forgot to mention one of Her Majesty's companions. She had a massive dwarven golem travelling with her, I understand she found it shortly after the disaster at Ostagar. It would probably be able to tell you what you wish to know, but sadly it has been deactivated for many years, collecting dust deep in the dungeons under the Royal Palace. I suppose that doesn't help much either..."

"Oh... oh yes, I suppose it doesn't, does it..." Riona said, trying to contain her sudden excitement that burst forth as soon as Shilla had closed the doors to her room and left. _Finally, something interesting! A golem! It's memories would be very accurate and unbiased. And I only need to reactivate it! _

_Err... I don't actually know anything about golems, do I? Well, shit. _

* * *

><p>Later in the afternoon, Riona was circling the streets of Denerim without any clear idea of where she was heading, simply enjoying the sights and slowly becoming more and more lost. With her mage robes still being tended to by the Formari crafters in personal employ of Queen Maythre, she had been forced to choose a simple dress from the vast collection in the wardrobes of her guest quarters. She had chosen to take her mage staff with her, eager to test whether this new tolerance towards mages was not simply a myth. Watching most people quickly move to the other side of the street as far away from her as possible, she concluded that it wasn't so much tolerance towards mages, than petrifying fear of them and what they could do.<p>

Spot trotted next to her, looking very pleased about being back in the land where the mabari dogs held special significance in both culture and military strategy. She had heard of the phrase that Ferelden smelled of wet dog, but she truly hoped it didn't smell as foul as Spot, who had found some rotting dead rat or bird in the Palace gardens and spent hours rolling around in the putrid remains. Now the mabari was staring at her with undeserved sense of accomplishment, puzzled as to why she withheld from patting him or giving him a scratch between the ears.

Familiar with only a few landmarks of Denerim, and even then only by their name, everything around her was completely new to Riona. Kirkwall had seemed massive and confusing at first, and Denerim appeared comparable in size, but it was completely different to the City of Chains. In fact, there probably was no other city on Thedas quite like Kirkwall, carved out in the very rock itself. Riona did recognize Fort Drakon, a menacing dark fortress that most people avoided looking at, muttering something about bad luck that was brought about by staring at the dismal prison for too long.

Riona had been very amused to come across an establishment she had heard both Anders and Isabela mention on many occasions, the most famous brothel in Denerim, The Pearl. She had stared at it for a while, remembering all the disturbing and debauched stories she had heard, concluding the place was far worse than the Blooming Rose, of which she had little fondness. Deciding against exploring The Pearl, Riona discovered a more reputable looking tavern not too far from the brothel, called The Gnawed Noble. However, she didn't risk bringing her foul smelling beast across the doorstep, so she simply made a note of it and decided to return at the earliest opportunity. There didn't seem to be a drop of alcohol to be found in the Royal Palace, and Riona was starting to become a little anxious, suffering slight signs of withdrawal.

Starting to feel a little tired from her excursion, Riona decided to turn back to the Royal Palace. Asking for directions proved difficult, for some of the locals appeared mortified or ran away as soon as they saw a mage approach, but fortunately she had met two young apprentices, swaggering around as if they owned the district, who were only too happy to explain to Riona how to make her way back to the palace.

Thoughts and ideas swam through her head as she slowly made the return journey. This mysterious apostate, Morrigan, could she have truly been Flemeth's daughter? Had the old witch perhaps somehow forced Maythre to take Morrigan along in her travels? Perhaps she had used her daughter to subtly influence Maythre, so that she did what was expected of her. Perhaps the clever and ingenious Warden had only been a pawn in Flemeth's grand designs without realizing it herself? And these designs for Ferelden, spreading all around her, what if they were not Maythre's own plans, but something planted in her head by Flemeth, perhaps through her daughter?

The possibilities were limitless, disturbing, but also a little far-fetched, Riona admitted that much to herself. If only she could sit down to have a talk with this Morrigan, Riona had no doubt it would provide many interesting insights and answers to questions that plagued her mind. But typically, she had disappeared without a trace, and no one knew where to look for her.

At least there was a very vague opportunity to learn more, presented by this inactive golem gathering dust under the palace. Riona had seen golems a few times during her travels, down in the Deep Roads, during Bartrand's expedition. She had never studied quite what made them work or anything else about them, something she deeply regretted now, but need for such specific knowledge could not have been foreseen. The only thing that Riona remembered was that golems could be controlled with special rods made for this purpose.

_I bet Maythre had one of those. I wonder what are the odds of her conveniently leaving it down in the dungeons, on a table next to the inactive golem._ Of course, she did not even know if the control rod also served as means to activate the golem. _Still, what has been deactivated, should also be possible to reactivate, right?_ she mused, starting to feel a little desperate.

_I will absolutely need help,_ she started to realize as she walked. _I will need someone who can tell me more about golems and how they work. Hmm... I guess I need to look out for a dwarf, or some mage who has researched them._

_And then I will need to get past locks to enter the Queen's private rooms and search for the rod. The dungeons are probably locked down tight as well, I will either need a skilled rogue or have someone teach me how to pick locks..._ Riona was slowly starting to get depressed from the daunting task ahead of her. _By the Maker... I haven't been in Ferelden for more than two days... and I'm already plotting something that constitutes to treason! _


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 6**

_9:37 Dragon  
>The Vimmark Chasm<em>

The sounds of battle and the roar of flames slowly abated around them, as the last of the Carta dwarves fell, brought down by the swords of their attackers. Rhatigan, the leader of the Carta, was the last one standing, but all he could do was to watch helplessly as his minions were dispatched one by one, finally going down himself, the oddly shaped staff falling from his hands as he collapsed on the ground with three bolts protruding through his chest.

Bethany had spent the entire fight cowering at the bottom of the stone stairway, feeling dazed and helpless, not sure quite what was happening. She thought she could see Varric buzzing about the scene of battle, picking off Carta thugs one by one. And that tall woman in the guard uniform looked a lot like Aveline, fighting like possessed next to... someone in templar armor? She closed her eyes, trying to gather her strength, realizing she needed to help, but her hands were completely numb from being tied behind her back for many hours, and she realized she would not be able to cast any spells.

Then it was all over, and suddenly she found herself in tight embrace of her rescuers, almost crushing her desperately, and she could not stop herself from crying out in pain as the guardswoman smothered her in yet another bear hug. "Bethany," she heard Aveline's voice whispering in her ear. "We thought we had lost you... we were certain that you had... perished in the Chantry."

She felt herself being released again, sliding back and leaning against the wall, remaining sitting to regain her breath. Someone passed her a flask of water and she gratefully accepted it. "Thank you," she said, returning it to the man in templar regalia, realizing it was Cullen. "Knight-Captain! I was not expecting you... I was not expecting anyone of you to come to my aid..."

"We didn't know we were saving you, Sunshine," Varric said. He was looking very odd, something was glistening at the corner of his eyes. "We thought we were rescuing your sister... but we are even more relieved to find you, trust us."

"My sister, why would my sister need rescuing?" Bethany suddenly felt alerted, bolting upright.

"She had to leave Kirkwall after Meredith was defeated," Cullen jumped in to explain. "After what happened in the Chantry... I was certain that people will want retribution from the mages. So I ordered her to leave Kirkwall, because I... I thought I was protecting her."

"Riona was heading for Ostwick," Varric continued. "Then Gerav, one of the more trustworthy people in the Carta, crawled to the Hanged Man, badly injured and with his last words told me that the Carta have captured Hawke and brought her here."

"Oh... you assumed that he meant Riona," Bethany realized. "Well... I'm really happy to see you all. I don't think I would have enjoyed their plans for me..."

"What happened to you, Bethany?" Aveline asked. "How did you escape the destruction of the Chantry?"

"I... I was on my way to the Chantry, when I was stopped by two dwarves. They did not look like thugs at all, and they told me of a friend who had been attacked by the shades in an alley just nearby," Bethany explained.

"And your compassion got the best of your common sense, Sunshine," Varric chuckled.

"I guess you could say that," Bethany smiled in reply. "Before I knew it, I was overpowered by a dozen of them, tied up tight like a bun and tossed in a cart. We arrived here some... I don't know, seven, eight hours ago?"

"Getting captured by the Carta saved your life, Sunshine," Varric said. "I suppose we should thank Rhatigan for that. Posthumously, anyway."

"Just what happened with the Chantry?" Bethany asked. "Was it something that-" she then cut herself short, realizing that nobody should know she had knowledge of Anders' dark plans.

"It was Anders," Aveline spoke darkly. "He had... done something, causing it to explode, leaving no stone overturned. The loss of life will be measured in thousands."

Bethany felt a deadly chill pass over her. _And I could have stopped it! I __**should**__ have stopped it!_ "What of... Anders himself?"

"That deranged apostate will not threaten anyone ever again," Cullen spat angrily. "He is dead, and so are many others amongst the Order and the Circle. Meredith, Thrask, Orsino, Elthina... the city is left without any leadership now."

"It still has you and Aveline," Varric shrugged. "You seem to be doing a fair job at it, not that you would notice it yourselves, too absorbed in your duties."

"That's... unexpectedly kind of you to say, Varric," Aveline smiled.

"And what of... Merrill?" Bethany finally dared to ask, fearing to hear the dreaded answer.

"Nobody has seen her, Bethany," Aveline shook her head sadly. "She has disappeared without a trace. I'm sorry."

"It's... it's alright," Bethany sighed. "I just wish I knew where to search for her, but there's simply... nothing. Yet somehow I feel she is still alive... or at least, I hope so."

"Daisy is more resourceful than people give her credit for," Varric agreed. "She has a good track record of getting herself out of self-inflicted disasters."

Bethany managed to smile at that, despite still feeling like crying. "I suppose I should follow my sister to Ostwick, once we get out of here. I get the feeling mages are not welcome in Kirkwall right now."

"I would not refuse aid in fixing those rifts in the Veil under Kirkwall," Cullen said thoughtfully. "The demons threaten to overrun the city and we need help badly. If you would agree to help us, Bethany, I would make sure you are well protected."

Bethany was about to reply, but Aveline cut in first. "I suggest we hold off all plans for distant future. There are more immediate concerns to address," she pointed to the top of the stairway, still engulfed in roaring flames. "Even if we could leave that way, there is still the matter of Corypheus and the threat that he poses. We need to decide what to do about it."

"My frost spells could douse the fires, I think," Bethany nodded. "But... you make a good point about this Corypheus. I heard those dwarves chanting his name. He needs my blood for something, and I imagine he would keep trying unless... unless he is dealt with permanently."

"Then we go downwards, into the fortress. And we will seek him out," Aveline said grimly.

"I agree," Cullen spoke. "You have my sword. Such evil cannot be left ignored."

Varric just rolled his eyes and sighed. "Of course we'll deal with this Corypheus for you, Sunshine, there could be no discussion about it, no need for heroic speeches either."

"Just how much did you learn of what is going on here, Bethany?" Aveline asked then.

"Corypheus asked the Carta to bring me here, because my blood is needed to set him free... I have no idea why, but they also mentioned my father's name..." she admitted. "I can't imagine what he could have to do with this creepy fortress, though. Perhaps we'll find out eventually. Oh, and they also mentioned some kind of key that is needed to reach this Corypheus," she took a few steps towards Rhatigan's corpse, looking at the fallen mage staff next to his body. "I wonder if this could be it."

"I would say that it looks more like a mage staff and not like a key, but perhaps their meaning was... less literal," Varric shrugged. "Would you know what to do with that key?"

"Nuh-huh," Bethany shook her head. "Well, I'll just take it with us and-" she bent down to pick up the staff, immediately feeling a strange, crackling surge of energy passing through her. The lights around her quickly grew dim and she felt her knees become weak, waking up moments later to everyone's concerned stares. "I'm fine... I'm fine, don't worry," she said cheerfully, getting up and taking the staff with her. _What a strange sensation... it's as if it... recognized me! Perhaps... it is because father had something to do with it? I must find out!_

"Is it safe?" Cullen was eyeing the staff with suspicion, the templar always wary about magic potentially capable of carrying corruption.

"I think so," Bethany nodded. "It is keyed to my father's blood, I'm sure of it now. Hence the reaction."

"Keyed to blood... your father was not a blood mage, was he?" Cullen asked.

"Of course not!" Bethany snapped vehemently. "He would never practice it, and he taught us not to dabble with it, either."

"And yet your sister fell to its use, before the eyes of all templars in the courtyard of the Gallows," Cullen said. "Yes, it was done to save a friend, but..."

"You won't find me voicing an objection to Riona's actions," Aveline spoke harshly, staring down Cullen. "If not for her, Donnic would be a widower."

Varric was starting to look impatient. "I thought you two wanted to get back to Kirkwall as soon as possible," he glared to both Aveline and Cullen in turn. "Not starting debates about blood magic would be a good start. Also, shall we move onwards? There's a whole fortress under our feet to be explored."

"Right you are, Ser Dwarf," Cullen agreed amiably, and the four of them started walking down the stairs. As soon as they had reached the bottom of the stairway, there was a brief flash of light behind them, and as they turned around sharply, they found the way back blocked by a shimmering field of energy, deflecting all their knocks and blows.

"Maybe it wasn't the brightest idea, after all..." Varric said, after they had given up on their attempts to break through the barrier.

"Perhaps, but... it doesn't really change anything," Bethany shrugged. "That Corypheus is still here, somewhere. If we don't deal with him, everyone with the Hawke blood in their veins will be in danger. That means not just me, but Riona too."

Varric looked considerably paler after Bethany's words had sunken in. "That is a good point..." he said quietly. "You both are equally important to me. Let's just have no more discussions on what we need to do here."

Having reached the bottom of the stairs, the group of four found themselves in the upper level of the fortress proper. The stone walls were thick, finely carved and adorned with well maintained pillars, massive burning torches along the passages. "Look at that," Bethany said, pointing at the wall opposite to the entrance. Fastened to the wall like the shields at their estate in Kirkwall, displaying the Amell crest, here a much larger metal plate held carvings of two griffons over a goblet. "Isn't that the Grey Warden coat-of-arms?"

"It is," Cullen nodded. He waved to the left, where instead of a wall loomed an open terrace, shredded banners still hanging from the ceiling, also displaying the Grey Warden heraldry. "More signs of this truly being a Grey Warden fortress, unlikely as it seems."

"Grey Warden fortress?" Bethany blinked, then quickly running up to the rusty and bent metal railing at the edge of the terrace. The view was frightening and mesmerizing at the same time. Below her, the bottomless chasm loomed, and across it she could see the central tower, where by all accounts Corypheus was being held. She could see a narrow bridge leading to the central part of the fortress, on the same level as they were on, and the sight briefly filled her with hope... until she saw a swarm of disgusting, grey skinned creatures marching across the narrow bridge, staring in their direction.

She drew back quickly, even as she realized it was too late. "I'm so sorry..." she managed in a trembling voice. "But we will have company very soon."

"What did you see?" Aveline asked, gripping her sword tightly.

"Darkspawn," Bethany breathed. "And they saw us... well, me. I'm sorry, that was stupid..."

"Don't worry Sunshine, what's done is done," Varric said, making sure Bianca was in perfect firing capacity. "We'll kick their butts back to the Deep Roads."

"The Deep Roads..." Cullen sounded thoughtful. "You may be right there. This chasm might lead there, which would explain how those creatures got here."

"Let's just go on and be very careful," Aveline said as they proceeded onwards. "This place is a real maze. They will not have an easy time finding us."

They continued down the passages, finding some of them blocked. In several places the roof had caved in, a mountain of sand pouring through the revealed gaps, also letting weak daylight shine in from above, but its presence was not particularly comforting. In some places, instead of the burning torches at the walls they saw strange large pylons, giving off eerie green light, greenish smoke rising from the walls.

It wasn't long before they ran into the first darkspawn. Having quietly opened a set of iron doors, a sight of several creatures devouring a hapless Carta dwarf opened to their eyes. "Try to avoid getting touched by these beasts!" Cullen shouted as he charged the genlocks, whacking one aside with his shield, before running another one through with his sword. With the aid of Bethany's frost spells, freezing the creatures in place, this group was dispatched with ease, even if the young mage knew it was only a fraction of the force she had seen crossing the bridge.

"How interesting," she heard Cullen's voice, the templar standing at a shimmering field of golden energy, much like the magical wall that had sealed the doors they had entered through. "What do you think this is?"

They all approached the energy shield. "Looks like something is imprisoned behind it," Varric said, peering at a dark shape, trying to claw its way through from the other side. "Probably nothing nice."

_...be bound here for eternity. Hunger stilled, rage smothered, desire dampened, pride crushed. In the name of the Maker, so let it be._ A voice suddenly echoed in Bethany's head, painfully recognizable, as she fell against Cullen's chest with a weak sigh. She quickly disentangled from the blushing templar, blinking, not sure what had just happened. _That sounded like... father's voice! _

"You alright Sunshine?" Varric gave her a look of concern.

"I... I think so," Bethany nodded after a moment of recollecting her thoughts. _Did father have anything to do with these... fields of energy? I must discover the truth! _"Let me try something..." she reached out with her hands, holding the staff-key in them. The shield flickered and collapsed, revealing a bloodthirsty demon that immediately lunged for them.

After the initial surprise, the group of shades were dispatched with ease, Bethany staggering on her feet as the mysterious voice entered her head again as soon as the last of the demons went down. _I can do nothing about the Warden's use of demons in this horrid place, but I will have no one say any magic of mine ever released one into the world..._the voice spoke, determined and defiant.

_Father must have imprisoned those demons here, _she realized._ But... if this shield reacts to blood... does that mean he had used... blood magic? That cannot be!_

"Something is wrong, isn't there? Bethany?" now it was Aveline's turn to give her a worried look.

"I think... my father has been here, many years ago," Bethany explained, still not quite believing what she was saying. "I'm not sure why and for what purpose... but there are... traces of his passage that I can sense. Perhaps it is this key," she pointed at the staff, seeing that Cullen and Varric had advanced forward to search the next chambers, and the templar was nowhere near to hear her next words. "Attuned to his blood, somehow."

"I won't pretend to understand how that works," Aveline shrugged her shoulders. "I simply hope you are in no danger here."

"I don't think so, Aveline-" she was about say more, when Cullen's excited shout alerted them both and they ran forth into the next chamber, another large open terrace giving an excellent vantage point at the central fortress across the chasm. Cullen was standing over the remains of a shredded backpack, having salvaged a piece of parchment from its contents.

"Well, don't keep us all in suspense, Knighty," Varric chuckled. "Share that juicy find, why don't you."

"Just listen to this... this might tell us what this Corypheus truly is..." Cullen said, before starting to read from the parchment. "_I found records dating back to 1004 TE, the wake of the First Blight. Early Wardens discovered that some darkspawn could think and speak and commanded portions of the horde even after the Archdemon's death. A few could wield magic with the skill of a Tevinter magister, and the Wardens greatly feared them. It was here, in the Vimmark Mountains, that Warden Sashamiri set her trap to capture and study the greatest of these creatures, the one whom they called..._"

"Corypheus..." Bethany finished for him, shuddering heavily from the chilling realization. "This is no Grey Warden fortress. This is a Grey Warden **prison**..."


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 7**

_9:37 Dragon  
>The Gnawed Noble tavern, Denerim<em>

On the evening of the next day, Riona Hawke found herself sitting at a table in The Gnawed Noble, nursing a mug of disgustingly warm beer. She had chosen a seat in the darkest corner of the large hall, perfect vantage point for observing the other patrons without being too obvious about it. The evening was still young, and for now the place was still only half-full, mostly with workers of the nearby marketplace who were of no interest to her. _A skilled rogue, a well educated dwarf, or a mage knowledgeable about golems,_ she mentally repeated the list of requirements for unlocking the path to the inactive golem that hopefully held dark secrets of Her Majesty Queen of Ferelden.

The previous evening had been spent telling the queen all about their Deep Roads expedition, and the lyrium idol. Maythre had been disappointed when Riona couldn't describe the idol and its properties in greater detail, but she had only touched it briefly, thus not being qualified to offer much information. There had been many questions about the abandoned thaig, questions that she had heard Bartrand ask himself while they had been down in the thaig, but she had very few answers to give to the frustrated queen. Riona was relieved when Maythre had mentioned that matters of state will require her to leave Denerim for a few days, so further talks would have to wait until she returned.

_This would have been a good moment to go after that golem,_ Riona remarked to herself, realizing that she would never manage to organize everything in these three short days. _Ah well, she's bound to leave on some important business again, I'm sure I'll have another chance later._

Deciding that even the swill at the Hanged Man was better than any ale in Ferelden, Riona returned to her careful observation of the tavern. The Gnawed Noble seemed to have its share of gnawed nobles amongst its patrons, people that carried themselves with pompousness and manner that they hoped would overshadow their current dismal fortunes, forcing them to drink together with the common folk, merchants, craftsmen from the nearby marketplace, groups of mercenary soldiers and other assorted scoundrels.

There were no dwarves that Riona could spot, and she couldn't help wondering a little about that. Considering what passed for beer in this tavern, it was likely the dwarves preferred to congregate in another establishment. Looking around to spot any potential mages, Riona could only notice one man who appeared like a desperate apostate on the run. He was wearing something that might have once been robes, but now looked more like a burlap sack. The scarred man's demeanor was highly unpleasant, and not only because of the extreme drunkenness, so Riona decided against approaching the pitiful creature of potentially human origin.

As for roguish characters, capable at picking the odd lock... there were quite a few, but most were a part of a heavily drinking company of men and likely would not appreciate an interruption. She had noticed a tall man with long, dark hair sitting at the bar ever since she had entered, that one not drinking much at all. A delicately carved immaculate bow rested against his seat, a full quiver still strapped on his back. Riona had been peering more intently at him, trying to see if she could spot daggers hanging at his belt, but at that moment the man had unexpectedly turned around and their eyes had met. Riona had quickly averted her gaze, staring at her beer mug and avoiding looking in the man's direction again.

Another large group of men, an adventuring company by the looks of it, entered the tavern then and Riona's attention was drawn towards them, studying each in turn but quickly dismissing them as unpromising. Discreetly examining several other new arrivals, Riona decided that she would much prefer someone who tended to work on their own, a lone wolf... the dark-haired man at the bar seemed to fit that description, and she almost regretted not having picked up a conversation with him when another look in the direction of the bar revealed that the seat was now empty, the man had disappeared.

She muttered angry swearwords under her breath, turning away, but then almost jumping in fright as a large dark shape had appeared directly at her table, blocking her view. It was the man she had seen sitting at the bar, looking down at her, his dark eyes piercing and brimming with keen intelligence. "Can I help you?" he asked, in a rich voice that somehow felt similar to a gentler Fenris.

"What do you mean?" Riona asked, trying to appear clueless.

The man's lips tugged in a little smirk. "I can see you are looking for someone," he said. "But you have no idea who they are or how they look like."

Riona gave the man a disbelieving stare. "And you can just conclude that from one exchange of looks?"

The dark-haired man gave a short laugh. "Hardly. There is a mirror behind the bar that you can't see from here. But it offered me perfect view at everything behind my back. Such as a certain young woman constantly examining me with her eyes."

Riona felt herself blush deep shade of red. "Umm... I see. Why... why don't you sit with me?" she quickly pointed to a seat at her table. "Unless you are in a hurry?"

"Please," the man smiled at her, shaking his head. "You know perfectly well I'm in no hurry." Still, he took the seat offered to him, settling his bow on the backrest of the chair. "I was going to remark that it is strange to see a young woman alone in a place such as this," he started speaking, then pointing at her mage staff, rested against the wall in the corner, "until I noticed that."

"Oh, but I'm not alone," Riona replied, feeling amused at how her new acquaintances eyebrows rose in confusion. "Just take a look under the table." The man did as he was told, slightly lifting the tablecloth and immediately shrinking back a little as he saw a massive hound looking up to him. The large mabari almost seemed to be grinning smugly, pleased to have succeeded at unsettling his quarry.

"A fine point," the man looked back at her, impressed. "Perhaps introductions are in order? My name is Nathaniel." He held out his hand for a shake.

"Riona," she said, reaching out across the table. The handshake was firm, but not excessively so. "Pleased to meet you, Nathaniel. Just Nathaniel, eh?"

The man seemed to wince a little bit, before giving her another evaluating stare. "You're not a Fereldan, are you Riona?"

"That's... a more difficult question to answer than you can imagine. I was born in the Free Marches, but grew up in Ferelden. My family escaped Lothering at the start of the Fifth Blight, and I have been living in Kirkwall for the past seven years. I only recently arrived in Denerim, I know very little of what has happened here during the past seven years."

"Part Ferelden, part Marcher, I could almost consider myself to be one as well," Nathaniel replied. "I spent eight years as a squire in the Free Marches, including one year in Kirkwall. My father would not have me return until the Blight had been dealt with."

"I can't remember running across you in Kirkwall," Riona said, thinking back, but feeling quite certain she hadn't seen Nathaniel's distinctive face before.

"That city is massive and depressing," Nathaniel shook his head. "Back to your question, though. Does the family name of Howe sound familiar?"

Riona thought for a while, trying to remember what she could about the state of affairs in Ferelden prior to their escape, the memories old and muddled by now. "I'm not sure... our only concern was to dodge templar hunters, we didn't really have any time for politics or anything like that. Howe, though... members of the nobility, I'm sure. Wait... the Arl of Denerim?"

"The Butcher of Denerim, you mean," Nathaniel remarked bitterly.

"What?" Riona looked at him curiously. "I don't understand. We barely received any news in Kirkwall."

"There is no denying that my father did many terrible things, after he threw in his lot with Loghain and his plot to usurp the rule over Ferelden. I've seen with my own eyes the torture chambers of his Denerim estate. He cast a dark stain on our family name, one that I do not think will ever go away."

"I imagine it is not easy to come to terms with such 'legacy'," Riona remarked softly.

"It was made worse after Anora grabbed the crown," Nathaniel spoke angrily. "She made all possible effort to whitewash Loghain at the expense of my father. He became the hero who had defeated the Blight, while the poisonous influence of Arl Rendon had manipulated Loghain into making all those decisions that led to the civil war. Our family was stripped of all lands and titles, which was very convenient for Anora. The royal coffers were empty, while the Howe family was very rich. Anora used what she took from us to fund her armies, little good that it did her."

"I'm starting to think that Queen Maythre is indeed a better fit for this land..." Riona mused.

Nathaniel barked out a short laughter. "I agree, and she was the one who actually killed my father! Deservedly so, I realize now, so I do not fault her for that." He paused for a moment before continuing. "During Anora's reign, I was a criminal on the run, someone to be killed on sight. At least my sister was spared this manhunt, Delilah had married by then and no longer bore the family name of Howe."

"And then Anora herself was cast down..."

"Yes. Queen Maythre returned to us a portion of the lands near Amaranthine, and a small estate here in Denerim," Nathaniel explained. "Not because she truly felt we had been wronged, but because she wanted to ensure the loyalty of all those who had a reason to be displeased with Anora. I don't care for Her Majesty's reasons, I just know it worked out well for us in the end. Even if there are still plenty of those who would spit on me simply for the name I bear."

_Amaranthine again, eh? That's the place where Anders merged with Justice. Strange how it keeps coming up, perhaps I should learn more._ "An interesting tale, thank you Nathaniel," she smiled. "What are you doing currently, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Ah... nothing of great importance," he admitted. "Just sitting quiet in my keep near Amaranthine, doing my best not to get involved in any stupid adventures. I'm here together with several nobles from Amaranthine to discuss trade agreements and other boring things with the representatives of neighboring arlings."

"No wonder you needed to escape from such riveting discussions to hide in a scummy tavern," Riona chuckled, the corners of Nathaniel's lips also tugging in a shadow of a grin. _Whoa, almost got him to smile. He's not beyond hope, at least!_

"Quite so," Nathaniel agreed. "But I have told you of my dark and brooding past, while I still know little of you, Riona. What are you doing back in Ferelden?"

"Perhaps you have heard some news from the Free Marches?" Riona asked, hoping she would not have to explain the traumatic events of those days when her life collapsed like a house of cards.

"I was told of something big happening in Kirkwall, yes," Nathaniel said. "The Chantry got destroyed by some madman? Mages and templars waged open war on each other? It all sounded rather fanciful."

"In reality it was even more astonishing than that," Riona spoke quickly. "You could say I was in the middle of those events, even if they were not of my making." _Maybe I should mention Anders sometime later, just in case they knew each other. I don't want to discuss Anders at length right now._

"And afterwards, you had to flee Kirkwall," Nathaniel made an educated guess.

"Yes," Riona nodded. "And what safer place for an apostate than Ferelden, where mages are no longer oppressed and imprisoned for 'their own benefit'?" There was no need to tell Nathaniel about the queen's special interest in her, so she decided to leave that part out. "Somehow the word of my arrival reached Her Majesty, so she invited me to stay in the Royal Palace as a guest of honor for a while."

"It must be flattering to receive such attention from our venerable monarch," Nathaniel remarked, a little sarcastically.

"She is very interested in learning about what happened in Kirkwall. What could be better than an account by an eyewitness?"

"That is certainly true," Nathaniel admitted. "And somehow, you still have not disclosed your last name."

"Oh. It's Hawke. Riona Hawke."

"Riona Hawke," Nathaniel repeated. "Good name. Rolls off the tongue easily." He paused for a while, before looking at her intently. "And yet, none of this explains what you are looking for in this rundown tavern."

Riona felt herself blush again. "You are very correct, Nathaniel," she admitted. "You will be rather... puzzled, if I tell you what I'm looking for."

"Try me," he looked at her challengingly.

"Very well," she sighed. "I'm looking for someone who can teach me a bit of lock picking."

Nathaniel did look surprised at that. "A mage that wants to learn how to pick locks? Don't your kind simply burn down the offending doors with a ball of fire?"

"I would like to leave no trace of the lock or the door having been meddled with," Riona explained. "Burning it down would create a bit of a problem there, if you can see what I mean."

"I think I can see that," Nathaniel nodded. "But why not simply hire out someone? There are plenty of skilled rogues willing to earn some coin."

"Oh no," Riona shook her head vigorously. "I can't do that, I need to be there alone, don't ask me why."

"Wait... you're staying at the Royal Palace," Nathaniel snapped his fingers. "Are you planning to rob the queen's coffers or something? Are you completely daft, woman?"

"Quiet you!" Riona admonished him. "I'm not interested in gold and riches, I'm after something... specific. I can't tell you why. I don't want to make anyone my accomplice, so please, do not ask."

"What's to stop me from reporting your mad venture to the Royal Guard or the queen herself?" Nathaniel peered at her.

"Will you?" Riona asked. _He doesn't seem to be type to do something like that. Please, please don't let me be wrong on this._

"No," Nathaniel finally cracked a smile. Riona felt it rather suited him. "I am thankful to her for returning some of our lands, but beyond that, I simply have no opinion of her at all."

"So... theoretically, if I were to describe to you a type of lock I would need to get open, could you... ah, could you show me how to do it?" Riona tried bravely.

"I could do that... theoretically," Nathaniel replied. "Ah, what the heck, I am so bored with these trade negotiations, why not?"

"Wonderful!" Riona smiled happily. "Is there any way I can repay you?"

Now it was Nathaniel's turn to blush for some unexplainable reason. "I think... ah, helping beautiful women is a reward in its own right," he managed.

"Flatterer," Riona chuckled. _Helping beautiful women... that's what Varric loved to say. Oh Maker, I wonder what he's doing right now..._

"Come to my estate tomorrow evening," Nathaniel said. "There we will be able to practice undisturbed. I will make sure we have an array of different locks to try our hand on."

"Sounds perfect," Riona grinned. "Except one problem, I have no idea where your estate is."

"Hmm," Nathaniel mused. "Do you have anything to write on? I could draw you a map."

"A map?" Riona laughed. "A map won't do me any good, Nathaniel. I don't know Denerim at all, I'm like a lost kitten here!"

Nathaniel smiled again. "I could walk you there right now and show you the way?" he suggested.

"Perfect!" Riona cheered, reaching out to grab her mage staff from the corner, before prodding the sleeping Spot with the tip of her boot. "Wake up, lazy bones! We're going on an adventure!"


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 8**

_9:37 Dragon  
>Corypheus's Prison - Sashamiri's Floor<em>

After dispatching several more groups of darkspawn, the party of four finally reached the narrow bridge leading to the central part of the fortress. Large pieces of rock had fallen from above and smashed the low iron fencing and left dangerous cracks in the bridge itself, making passage across it potentially perilous, especially if the darkspawn would possess the cunning and intelligence to set up an ambush in this dangerous bottleneck.

Advancing carefully, they stopped after Cullen's warning shout. "I think I see one of those monsters lurking behind that rock," he pointed ahead. "Quickly, let us dispose of it before it can alert others!"

Cullen and Varric on one side, Bethany and Aveline on the other, they circled around the large rock, cornering the creature, looking like the strangest darkspawn Bethany had ever seen... or was that even a darkspawn? "Wait!" she called out as Cullen was about to strike at the unsuspecting foe. "I'm not sure that's a darkspawn!"

The creature looked at her, getting up on his feet, hunched and deformed but still appearing vaguely humanoid. His skin had blackened for the most part, very similar to the darkspawn, showing the effects of taint in very late stages. The sparse hair on the man's head and in his beard had fallen out in patches, only his surprised eyes holding last vestiges of persisting humanity. "The key..." the blighted creature spoke in a rasping voice, pointing at the staff Bethany carried in her hands. "You have the key... but how did you bring it here without the blood..."

"The dwarves called this a key, yes," Bethany nodded. "What did they mean by it?"

"Old magic," the blighted man replied with a knowing nod. "Magic of the blood! It made the seals... it can destroy them!"

"They captured me to somehow use my blood with the key," Bethany said. "Do you know anything more about that?"

"Use the blood? But then... then you must be Hawke!" the creature's eyes lit up with excitement, or was it hope? "Then you can help! You have the means to defeat him! And also the means to leave this place... I can show you out!"

"Bethany," Aveline stood next to her, looking concerned. "Don't believe anything he says. We don't even know who this creature is and who he serves. Perhaps he is an ally of this Corypheus."

"Do not speak his name!" the tainted man warned them, bringing a rotting finger to his lips, urging them to remain quiet. "Do not wake him! Not when you hold the key..."

"I recognize his armor, or what remains of it..." Cullen said thoughtfully, having stared at the man carefully for a while. "It's Grey Warden issue."

"This is a Grey Warden fortress," Varric remarked. "He might have picked it off a corpse. That doesn't prove anything."

"I suppose you are right," Bethany nodded at Varric. "But it doesn't explain how he could have survived here amongst all those darkspawn. He's clearly not one of them, no one has ever heard of a talking darkspawn!"

"Perhaps it is the taint," Cullen wondered. "They might perceive him as one of their own."

"Follow me," the man in the Grey Warden armor rasped. "Follow me! I know a way out... down and in. Down and in!"

"We would be stupid to trust you, creature," Aveline glared at the deformed man.

"And you will be dead if you don't," he shot back at the Guard-Captain. "I know the prison's secrets! The only way out is down and through the heart, and only if you have the key! There are seals ahead of you, seals that will only open to someone with the key, someone with the blood of the Hawke!"

"But the field that sealed us in at the entrance would not open to me," Bethany shook her head, looking uncertain. "It would not react to my blood at all!"

"It is not built to do that!" the man explained hastily. "The only way to leave this place is forward, through the seals, as I've told you. Now, follow me!" he swiftly turned around and shuffled off in astonishing speed, instantly leaving them behind, scratching their heads.

"I don't like this," Aveline shook her head grimly, looking across the bridge where the tainted man had ran off.

"Do we have any other options than trusting him, though?" Cullen asked.

"Well, we've explored the passages behind us and there was nothing that would help us escape," Varric shrugged. "The only path is forward, as he said. Much as it pains me to admit, listening to that madman seems our only choice."

"I agree with Varric," Bethany said. "Somehow I don't think he was lying." They continued their passage across the bridge as she went on to speak. "The way he describes it, this place is a horrible death trap. Anyone who enters this place, is stuck here with no choice of escaping. Unless..."

"Unless they carry the blood of Hawke," Cullen said behind her, she could feel his eyes piercing in her back.

"I've no idea why, in case you were going to ask," she shrugged. "Father never spoke about coming to this place. Perhaps that blighted man knows more than he is telling us. I'm dying to find out more."

"Hopefully without any actual dying involved," Varric grumbled as they crossed the bridge and stepped onto the central part of the fortress, rising up from the very chasm itself.

The entire level of the central part consisted of one huge hall, a dais with a faintly green glowing seal on top of it, very similar to the one under Kirkwall and guarded by Xebenkeck, and Bethany was relieved to for once not see the Amell crest etched into the surface of the seal. The hall was outlined with statues of bronze griffons and on the western wall of it there was a doorway, amber glowing energy shield preventing their passage and not reacting to Bethany's key, just like the shield that had locked them out from the exit of this floor.

"Where did that man go?" Aveline wondered, not seeing their tainted friend anywhere.

"Perhaps those tainted can pass through the shield at any time?" Cullen offered.

"Or perhaps Grey Wardens can do that..." Varric mused. "Well, it helps us little. We need to get past this... Bethany, what are you doing, Sunshine?"

But Bethany did not listen to their exclamations of surprise and warnings, standing in the middle of the dais, gripping the key and watching drops of blood fall from her slashed palm onto the surface of the seal. The green light flickered and rose from the seal like smoke, getting sucked into the key, trembling lightly in her hands, filling it with more and more potent magic.

_It's... as if it's taking the seal's magic back into itself! _Bethany realized with surprise. The others were staring at her with various degrees of concern, but Bethany herself was only interested in one thing, and a quick look in the direction of the shield blocking their passage revealed everything. The shield was gone, their path was clear. And their strange tainted host had reappeared yet again, seemingly from nowhere.

"You figured it out, as I thought you would," he said approvingly. "After thousands of years, the magic still holds. And the blood works, it is good."

"At least give us your name before you sneak off again," Aveline looked harshly at the man.

"Name... name... yes, there was a name, but it has not been used for so long... Larius... yes, Larius!" the man's eyes lit up at the memories. "There was a title too, Commander of the Grey..."

"Maker..." Aveline gasped. "It seems hard to credit, but... it must be true."

"I'm starting to remember tales of the Wardens who came to Orzammar and went to the Deep Roads, never to return," Varric said, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "Some of them were described to look rather ghastly, a bit like our friend here. I wonder..."

"I've heard a little of it, too," Cullen nodded. "I think it is the Calling. The Darkspawn taint starts to slowly kill them..."

"Yes," Larius nodded. "I am dead. But... I never died."

"Why does the seal react to my blood," Bethany asked. "Did my father come here? For what purpose?"

"The seals... they need reinforcing," Larius muttered. "The last to do it was that Hawke fellow... and I was here with him, before I became this!" he looked around worryingly. "The seal protects us no longer. In plain sight I am! I must retreat deeper, out of his sight!" And with that he sped off again, out of the hall and across another narrow bridge leading away from the central part of the fortress, across the chasm and to a different floor of the ancient prison.

"Give it a rest, Cullen!" Varric shouted after the templar who had rushed ahead, trying to catch Larius on the rickety bridge. "He's too fast for you!"

Suddenly they all heard a loud roar out on the bridge followed by a scream of surprise. They ran onto the bridge to see Cullen getting charged by what at first looked like a set of giant metal doors, hitting him face on and throwing the templar over the broken metal railing.

"Cullen!" Aveline shouted, shocked from the sight.

"What is that thing?" Bethany shuddered, seeing that whatever it was behind the enormous shield was now slowly approaching them, carefully moving across the bridge.

"A particularly annoying darkspawn," Varric said, trying to aim with Bianca, but there simply was not any weak spot to take a shot at. Bethany threw a few spells at it, but they didn't seem to slow the creature down any.

"Take point on the flanks," Aveline ordered them quickly, seeing the creature coming within a charging range. "Let him come at me."

"Don't do anything stupid, Aveline," Varric warned. "Or brave. Actually, they are of the same..."

The large genlock behind the massive shield briefly peered out from behind his impenetrable defenses, checking their positions, before setting into another charge, this one aimed at the only target in his range, Aveline. The redhead, however, was well ready for it, jumping aside with time to spare, the genlock together with his shield crashing into a pillar and remaining stunned. Bethany's ice lance threw the creature off his feet, Bianca's bolts made it appear like a hedgehog with frosting, before Aveline's sword stabbed it three times in the back, decorating it with sprays of red.

"Help! Someone, come quick!" they suddenly heard Cullen's voice from further ahead. Rushing towards where he had fallen, they found the templar hanging on for dear life, his hand grabbing a piece of the metal railing that had already become partly separated from its fastenings on the bridge.

"Just hang on, Cullen," Aveline shouted, leaning lower and reaching out with her hand while making sure she maintained proper support and Cullen's weight would not simply propel her over the edge as well. The templar made a desperate grab for Aveline's hand, catching it at the very same moment that the railing came loose and the pieces of metal fell into the dark chasm with loud banging, while Cullen remained dangling precariously in thin air.

Eventually, with Varric and Bethany's aid, the Knight-Captain was pulled back onto the bridge, and they all let out heavy breaths of relief. "Are you hurt, Ser Cullen?" Bethany asked after a while. "I have some skill with healing spells."

Cullen rose and stretched his limbs to test himself. "I seem to be fine, thank you for your concern," he smiled. "And simply Cullen will do, Bethany."

"Alright, simply Cullen," Bethany grinned back, watching Varric make all the way across the bridge to investigate. He returned very shortly, his face not giving anything away. "What did you find?" she asked.

"Immediately across the bridge there is a stairway leading down to the lower levels," the dwarf replied. "It's like Larius said. Down and in."

"Do we continue?" Aveline asked. "This level is clear of foes, it seems we could rest here without being disturbed."

"I don't know, I'm not very tired myself," Bethany shrugged. "But if you need to rest, we rest."

"We have a day's marching behind us, but I think we can go on for some time yet," Varric said, Cullen and Aveline nodding in agreement.

The passages below looked much the same as the ones they had just traversed, thick stone walls outlined with glowing pylons and burning torches amidst Grey Warden regalia. The first few chambers they explored did not contain any darkspawn welcoming committees waiting for them, but in one of the rooms, Bethany once again was shaken by the very familiar voice of her father suddenly speaking into her head, repeating the same words as before, in the upper levels. Not surprisingly, they immediately came upon another golden shield of energy, holding a dark, demonic shape imprisoned.

It seemed as if Cullen was about to utter a warning but Bethany was already moving forth, bringing her hand together with the Key to dispel the shield, revealing a gargling abomination together with some strange creatures from rock, slightly reminiscent of golems. They fell quickly to their combined efforts, and as she listened to Varric refer to the rock things as 'the profane', her father's voice entered her head once more.

_"I may have left the Circle, but I took a vow,"_ she heard him speak, recognizing the words he had told Riona and her many, many times. _"My magic will serve that which is best in me, not that which is most base."_

"What is it, Bethany?" Aveline asked, again looking worried. "You are acting a little strange at times."

"Just... more traces left behind by my father, it appears," Bethany replied, slowly gathering herself. She realized that her behavior might appear worrying and suspicious to the others, especially to a templar, but these messages left by her father felt very deeply personal. She might have been comfortable to share them with Aveline or Varric who were like a part of family, but Cullen... was decent, but not exactly a close friend. "Let's move on."

Not long after they came out to another of those bridges leading across the central part of the fortress, but it was impassable, large rocks in their way, impossible to climb. They could see another bridge leading across directly on their right, but a large force of darkspawn were now moving across it and towards them. Larius stood there on that bridge too, looking on at them, the darkspawn passing by him as if he wasn't even there, a disconcerting sight.

Fortunately, the darkspawn forces seemed to thin out as they crossed the bridge, spreading through the fortress and its many passages to seek them out. The individual, smaller groups were defeated without too much of a fuss, and even if they managed to alert some of their comrades the blighted creatures were no match to their prowess.

While battling their way towards the bridge, Bethany again felt the sensation of her father's presence. Sure enough, they came upon the third shield shortly, this one holding a desire demon bound with its magic.

"I suppose you will want to release this one as well," Cullen said grimly, preparing to attack the demon, as Bethany was about to remove the bindings.

As the desire demon and its risen lackeys, the rotting corpses, fell quickly, a specter like shape with glowing eyes rose from the ground in front of them, but it seemed only Bethany was able to see the apparition, for the others continued talking, not noticing anything out of the order.

The specter turned towards her, a vaguely humanoid shape speaking in her father's voice. "_I've bought our freedom, Leandra,_" the apparition spoke. "_We can go home now, we and the baby. We'll be together._" The spirit was silent for a moment, before speaking again. "_I hope it takes after you, love. I would wish this magic on no one. May they never learn what I've done here._"

"Bethany!" she was suddenly aware of Aveline at her side, supporting her. A strange weakness had come over her and she had fallen on her knees at some point. "Bethany, are you alright? You just... collapsed!"

"Did... nobody else see that?" Bethany managed weakly.

"See what?" Varric gave her a curious stare.

"I... think I understand more now," Bethany started to speak, remembering the words of the specter. "My father was forced by someone to come here... and perform certain tasks."

"Larius spoke of being here together with your father," Aveline said. "The Wardens made him strengthen those seals?"

"That... must be it," Bethany nodded. "They made him do blood magic. He had to obey or he would have never seen Leandra again. Oh Maker..." she started to cry. "...mother was pregnant at the time. She must have been awaiting Riona..."

"Here, take this Sunshine," Varric passed her a mostly clean handkerchief, and she proceeded to blow her nose and wipe her cheeks clean.

"He prayed that his children would not possess the curse of magic," Bethany sniffed. "But with him being a mage and mother's Amell ancestry... it is a small wonder that Carver did not turn out to be a mage as well."

"That your father managed to raise you as he did, keeping himself and you two away from blood magic... it does him a huge credit," Cullen said. "Most mages never stop once they step on that slippery slope. Your father must have been a very special man."

"I'm sure your father realized how difficult life would be for magically gifted children," Aveline spoke gently. "But it truly seems he did the best that he possibly could for you. He would be very proud of you and Riona, I'm certain."

"Aveline is right," Varric said, sounding a little overcome with emotion as well, stepping away before anyone had noticed it.

"I am starting to think that perhaps that rest is in order after all," Cullen finally suggested. "Varric and I can do a sweep of the surrounding chambers to make sure all darkspawn have been cleared out, while you two set camp."

"Thank you, Cullen," Bethany smiled, feeling grateful. She felt emotionally drained, unfocused and continuing in such a state would have been dangerous for the entire group. "I am sorry for the inconvenience, but that does seem like a good idea."

"Do not worry," Aveline shook her head, smiling. "We need rest as well. It will benefit us all. I'll take the first watch."

"Second," Varric raised his hand.

"Third for me," Cullen nodded.

"I guess the last one for me then," Bethany accepted with a smile. "Thank you. Not just for rescuing me..." she was starting to get overwhelmed with emotion again. "For being here... for everything you've ever done for me and my sister..."

Nobody replied anything in return. The fierceness of Aveline's embrace was all the answer she needed.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 9**

_9:37 Dragon  
>Howe Estate, Denerim<em>

"Well done," Nathaniel's voice close to her ear felt reassuring, as she let out a breath of relief, reaching for a torsion wrench and trying to turn the plug. Much to her pleasant surprise, it yielded and the lock sprang open. "You are getting good at this."

"Let's keep practicing," Riona smiled, wiping beads of perspiration from her forehead. A few nights back, she had done her best to inspect the locks on the doors to Her Majesty's quarters as well as on the heavy oaken door leading into the Palace dungeons. She had described them to Nathaniel, and while he was reasonably certain what tools would have to be used to open them, they ended up trying several dozen types of locks, just to be sure.

"I agree, you can't be too prepared if you really want to take on the crazy task you're about to attempt," Nathaniel said, shaking his head and then passing another lock to her. "What do you think about this one?"

Riona stared at the mechanism for a good while, trying to recall everything she had learned in the past days. "Let's see..." she reached out for one of the many tools on the nearby desk.

"Always with the rake pick," Nathaniel clicked his tongue disapprovingly.

"Hey, it has served me well," Riona replied defensively, starting to work on the lock.

"Only because they have all been very cheap and simple locks. Try to do it properly, why don't you?"

"Fine, fine," Riona huffed. "What do you suggest then, oh great expert?"

"As always you start with the 'feeler'," Nathaniel placed a small hook pick in her hand. "Often it will be all you need." He closed her palm around the tool, his eyes twinkling in amusement. "You have very dexterous fingers, Riona. You shouldn't have any trouble handling this lock."

With her heart skipping, Riona set to work, trying her best to concentrate. For some reason, the gentle touch of Nathaniel's hands, unavoidable during their lock picking lessons, was very pleasantly distracting. Shame and guilt, however, did not allow this experience to be truly delightful. _Varric. How dare I enjoy another man's touch, while he waits for me in Kirkwall? _She mentally berated herself.

After almost a quarter of an hour with no progress, Riona reached out to grab a half-diamond pick, with a corner of her eye noticing Nathaniel nodding approvingly. Only a minute later, her efforts quickly bore fruit as the lock yielded and she gave a small cheer. "You will be glad to know that as far as I can tell, the lock on Her Majesty's bedroom doors appears to be exactly like the one you just opened," her lock picking mentor informed her.

"Good... that's good," Riona still felt elated, very pleased about her swift progress. "Sadly the queen does not plan to leave Denerim for another two weeks, so I won't be able to put my amazing skills into action."

Nathaniel actually looked relieved to hear that. "That gives us time for more practice, which is good. You may think you are ready, but believe me, no practice can truly prepare you for the nervousness you'll feel during the actual job."

"Great... that's very encouraging," Riona gulped. "But surely I can't delay you in Denerim for two more weeks?"

"Those boring trade discussions are still ongoing, and even if they had ended, there's nothing really awaiting me back in Amaranthine," Nathaniel shrugged. "I can stay in Denerim for as long as I want."

Riona stretched and rose from her seat, feeling a little tired from all the practice, her fingers in particular aching from all the turning, pushing and prodding of the lock picking tools. "No family, no heir?" she asked casually.

Nathaniel chuckled. "No, it looks like the lands will be inherited by my nephew, Delilah's son." He looked at her. "You didn't leave anyone back in Kirkwall when you fled?"

"No," Riona answered quickly before her brain could even react and deliberate upon a reply. "My entire family... perished, with the exception of my uncle." _Traitor!_ her conscience hissed at her. _Are you starting to forget him already?_

"I'm... sorry to hear that," Nathaniel said softly. His hand rested on her shoulder comfortingly, remaining there and she made no effort to move away.

"I didn't want to bring that up," she finally stepped away from him. "Let's just focus on the task ahead."

"Of course," Nathaniel nodded. "Do you wish to crack a few more locks then?"

"No," she shook her head. "There's something else I need to tell you. Dealing with the locks alone won't be enough for what I need to do." Nathaniel looked at her questioningly. "I also need to find someone who is an expert on golems."

"...golems?" he peered at her incredulously. "I... didn't expect that. It's certainly nothing I can help with."

"But perhaps you know someone who might help?" Riona asked, realizing she was sounding a little desperate. "There are some mages who have researched them. Or perhaps you have some dwarf friend who might know these things..."

Nathaniel seemed about to shake his head in denial, but then stopped. "I don't think the one dwarf I have amongst my friends will know much about golems... but perhaps she will know of someone who does," he finally said. "But... before I ask Sigrun for a favor, you will tell me exactly what you are attempting. It's time for you to be completely truthful with me, Riona."

She sighed deeply. "Are you sure? I don't want to make you an accomplice in my crime."

Nathaniel waved at the table with lock picks and all the other tools. "I think we're in too deep already."

"As you wish," Riona said. "I'll keep it simple. My plan is to break into the palace dungeons and reach a disabled golem that used to travel with the queen when she was still simply a Grey Warden fighting the Blight and dodging Loghain. I want to activate that golem."

Nathaniel looked a little pale. "But... why?"

"Because nobody else can tell me what truly happened during their travels. The others are either dead, missing or out of my reach… conveniently so."

"What sort of knowledge could possibly justify taking such risks?" Nathaniel asked, still looking uneasy.

"I don't know exactly what I will find, Nathaniel," Riona replied. "But I would not be doing this if I didn't believe it was very important. Perhaps... perhaps even the fate of Thedas is at stake."

* * *

><p><em>9:37 Dragon<em>_  
>Royal Palace of Denerim<em>

The Queen was busy writing in her journal when Cauthrien entered, answering her summons delivered by Shilla, the elven maid. Maythre acknowledged the general's presence with a brief nod of the head that also served as an invitation for Cauthrien to take a seat as the Queen finished putting down her notes. "Most interesting trip, don't you agree?" she eventually asked, setting her quill aside. "It certainly provided me with plenty of ideas."

"If by interesting you mean three attempts on Her Majesty's life, then yes, I do agree," Cauthrien sounded a little tired.

"I have always had difficulties understanding a fanatic's conviction, Cauthrien," Maythre admitted. "It just seems so... insane and pointless, to give your life for something existence of which is highly debatable."

"The faith in the Maker in Ferelden is not as deeply rooted as in Orlais, but it is still extremely strong," Cauthrien said, now sounding a little exasperated. "To be honest, I expected much stronger backlash to chasing the Grand Cleric to Val Royeaux and slaughtering all the templars. If I may advise, Your Majesty, perhaps we should play nice with the Andrastians for a while?"

"Are you implying I should delay my edict to outlaw their faith?" Maythre asked innocently. Cauthrien looked mortified, pale as chalk. "Ah, very well, I shall listen to you on this account. But at times you can be such a bore, Cauthrien!"

"...I prefer living a long, boring life than a short one ending in entertaining death," Cauthrien muttered quietly.

Maythre laughed good-naturedly. "I need to remember that," she grinned at her long-suffering general.

"I meant to ask what are we to do with the Champion?" Cauthrien asked then, looking desperate for a change of subject.

"I haven't decided yet, Cauthrien," the Queen shrugged. "I think we should keep her around for a while, in case she remembers something important. I've listened to everything she had to tell me, and I still get the feeling as if she hasn't told me all she knows. Something doesn't add up in her stories."

"We have ways to make people talk," Cauthrien raised an eyebrow. "A little trip to Fort Drakon will loosen Hawke's tongue."

"Please, Cauthrien, where are your manners, suggesting we treat a guest like that?" Maythre mockingly admonished the stony faced general. "No, I don't think she's withholding information on purpose, it's more that she hasn't mentioned it because she doesn't see how important it is, and I haven't been able to drag it out of her."

"What do you think she is hiding?"

"I don't know... but her story suggests too much coincidence than I can allow for. It borders on very subtle manipulation, and yet I have not encountered anyone in her tales that would be capable of it," Maythre mused. "Hmm... I wonder..."

"So we allow her to stay as a guest and don't limit her freedom in any way? Keep everything as it is?" Cauthrien asked.

"Yes, as I told you, I don't want to do anything that could make her suspicious of us and our intentions," the Queen explained. "I want her to trust me. And I admit, I've come to develop some fondness for the girl. I would hate having to... permanently silence her..."

* * *

><p><em>9:37 Dragon<br>Howe Estate, Denerim_

The bubbly, red-haired, excited dwarven girl in front of Riona just kept talking and talking to no end, even as she turned to Nathaniel with a desperate look in her eyes. The man himself was busy talking to another dwarf on the other side of the room, a rather grim looking female with the distinctive markings of Casteless on her face, two swords that had seen much action strapped on her back. Nathaniel had introduced her as Sigrun, his friend who had managed to find an expert on golems that could aid Riona in her dangerous undertaking.

However, Nathaniel only smirked at her desperate helpless stares and Sigrun looked completely unsympathetic to her plight, forcing Riona to turn back to the overexcited dwarven girl and attempt to stop the flood of words coming from the young woman's mouth. "So... what did you say your name was?" Riona tried again.

"Dagna, daughter of Janar," the red-haired girl replied. "I had always dreamed to study magic on the surface, and after Her Majesty Maythre finally changed the fortunes of Fereldan mages for the better, I left Orzammar two years ago and came to Denerim to seek knowledge and study."

"But... dwarves don't do magic," Riona tried. _Except Sandal... I've no idea what it is that he does, anyway._ She shuddered at the memories of the strange youth.

"I didn't want to do magic, I only wished to study magic and its rules," Dagna explained. She had the largest, most inquisitive eyes Riona had ever seen in a dwarf, reminding her a little of Merrill and her bubbly curiosity. "I had read almost everything magic related that the Shaperate could offer, and I've continued reading and researching on the surface. I know a great deal, just try asking me anything!" she added proudly.

"I don't want to know everything, Dagna, my interest is very specific," Riona said patiently. "I want to know as much as I can about golems. I'm particularly interested in how you would go about reactivating one."

"Oh! Oh..." Dagna looked a little disappointed. "Golems? Are you sure you don't want to ask me something more exciting?" Riona shook her head determinedly. "Oh well, let's see about golems. I've read several theories on golems, yes. There was that very recent work by a Shaperate scholar on Paragon Caridin and how he came to discover the process of golem creation. Did you know that golems are not simply animated blocks of stone and metal? You cannot give life to an inanimate object, that's why every golem ever created was... infused with a living dwarf within..."

Riona tried to quickly dismiss the gruesome mental image that Dagna had just conjured, trying to steer the conversation in the direction she needed it to go. "That's interesting, but..."

"Then there was Paragon Hirol and his research on improving the golem design, very fascinating," Dagna rambled on. "The evolution of the steel golem, culminating in the powerful inferno golem..."

"What about reactivating a dormant golem..."

"And the last research on the golems I came across was a book by some odd human by the name of Tehctarp, I think it was called 'Feet of Clay'... the most unusual structure for a research manuscript, I must say that you humans have some strange ideas for scientific approach to things. But well, at least it had golems in it, so it was somewhat interesting."

"Dagna!" Riona finally exclaimed aloud, startling everyone in the room.

The dwarven girl gave her a wide-eyed stare. "Umm... yes?"

"Please... please, just tell me how to reactivate a disabled golem..." Riona was almost crying by now.

"Oh... well, I suppose you just use its control rod," Dagna said, looking highly disappointed.

"It can't be that easy!" Riona protested. "Surely there is more to it."

"I've seen a few of those control rods, they seem very easy to operate," Dagna shrugged. "Look for easily recognizable runes inscribed at its base and press on them while aiming the rod at the golem."

"And that's it?" Riona blinked.

"Oh yes. And utter the command word, of course," Dagna nodded happily.

"...the command word?" Riona was starting to feel a little sick.

"Well, it may not have it, but some golems respond only to a certain command word. It's like a safeguard by their masters to make sure their servants cannot be activated only with a stolen command rod."

"...how would I know if a golem in question has a command word or not..."

"You won't know that until you try to activate it," Dagna elaborated helpfully.

Riona groaned. "That's just... brilliant. How likely is it that Maythre has not placed a command word on that thing?"

"Oh, she wouldn't be able to place a command word on a golem," Dagna shook her head.

"...what do you mean?" Riona was starting to look around for a bottle of wine or something alcoholic that would lessen the mental anguish.

"Each golem is created with a specific command word that can never be altered later," Dagna explained. "It will react only to that one specific word and nothing else."

"So... how does that help us?"

"Well... the Warden... Queen Maythre, brought with her to Orzammar a complete record of all golems ever created at the Anvil of the Void... and I managed to cross reference it with another register, listing all command words ever assigned to golems. They needed to maintain a list to make sure same command word wasn't used twice. That would just have been untidy, you see."

"I do see... and you have this list of command words..." _Dare I hope to be so lucky?_

"Well, no..." _Of course... how typical..._ "I mean, I would have to run back to my study and retrieve it..." _ARGH I think I'm going to faint... yes, definitely going to faint..._

"Oh, Master Nathaniel! Master Nathaniel!" Riona somehow could make out Dagna's slightly worried voice as she struggled to maintain her consciousness. "I think your friend fainted! By the Ancestors, I never found golems to be **this** exciting!"


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 10**

_9:37 Dragon  
>Corypheus's Prison - Farele's Floor<em>

Bethany woke with a start, swatting her arms at an unseen enemy that appeared to be accosting her, but relaxing immediately as soon as she realized it had been just another vivid dream. There had been too many of those this past night. Riona and Merrill, she was worried sick for them both and her imagination constantly fed her with frightening scenarios of their fates. She had also dreamed of her parents and their time in Lothering, a memory of a peaceful time, when it seemed that nothing could shake the serenity of their pastoral everyday lives. Of time when everyone she knew and loved appeared at peace, happy. Such time... she doubted she would ever experience again.

And then there were the memories of that day in Kirkwall, resurfacing in her mind again and again. That terrible explosion just as she was being taken away from Hightown, large pieces of falling boulders and rubble falling everywhere, miraculously not squishing the cart in which she had been carried out, tied up like a bun. Thousands dead everywhere, her own sister convinced of her death and living with such grief, and she was the cause for it. She still struggled to believe that Anders would have done something like that. The rational part of her mind attempted to remind her that if she hadn't helped Anders, he would have found someone else to aid him, or had simply taken the risk himself. Somehow, that didn't make her feel all that much better.

"Rough night?" she heard Cullen's voice, snapping her back to reality. She turned to see the templar sitting on top of an old crate, giving her a sympathetic look. "I heard you trashing a while ago."

"I'm sorry if I disturbed your rest," Bethany apologized, slowly rising in a sitting position. "Isn't it my time to take the watch?"

"Oh, your watch has almost passed," Cullen smiled in reply. "The others should be rising shortly. I didn't have the heart to wake you up, your sleep was uneasy."

Bethany could not help but feel a little warmer from his words. "That's awfully kind of you to say, but you needed rest as much as I did. Out here, such gallantry should be dispensed with."

"I feel well rested," Cullen replied confidently. "I had more sleep than I used to get in the Gallows... these past months were... rather rough."

"I can imagine," Bethany gave him a sorrowful look, before retrieving her flask of water, pouring some in her palm and turning away to wash her face and sort her hair at least a little. "I had forgotten some of the side effects of adventuring," she grumbled, feeling how unpleasantly sticky and rough her hair felt. "My poor hair... a few more days, and I'll be like Larius!"

Cullen laughed at that. "No need to exaggerate, I still see a very beautiful young woman before me." Seeing that Bethany had frozen stiff from his words, he quickly offered an apology. "I am sorry... it was improper of me to say such words. I only meant that..."

"No need to apologize," Bethany recovered quickly. "I did not find your words unpleasant, merely unexpected. But... this is not the time nor place for such talk."

"Indeed it is not," Cullen agreed. Then he reached into his bag and retrieved some kind of old looking parchment, throwing it to Bethany. "You might find this interesting. Varric and I discovered it in an old strongbox while searching the side chambers last night."

"_'The creature can speak. It has a name, Corypheus. This Corypheus appears unique among darkspawn, and has gathered many of its brethren to follow it. It would be wasteful to kill such a creature. If it can be captured, tamed somehow, its unnatural influence over the darkspawn could perhaps be turned to our favor,'_" Bethany read from the aged parchment.

"I've heard some very similar stories being told," Varric commented, having been awoken by their conversation, getting up and stretching. "They all had one thing in common. They didn't end well."

"'_Corypheus seems at times more human than beast. I have conversed with it, and though its thoughts are disordered and inhuman, it speaks of the Old Gods by their Tevinter names,'_" Bethany continued to read aloud. "_'I recommend we find a way to capture Corypheus, hold it somewhere safe from both men and darkspawn, and study its unique nature. This will require magic, however, for Corypheus's own abilities are powerful. It uses spells both human and tainted, and has a strength that would shame any magister. We must muster our best mages to face it and to hold it.'_"

"Let me guess..." Aveline was getting up as well. "It didn't exactly work out according to the plan."

"Considering this Corypheus seems to be still somehow alive and trying to break out... I guess that it didn't really work, no," Bethany nodded. "Dealing with a creature like that does not seem such a brilliant idea. But we do not know how desperate those times were. Perhaps the Wardens were on the edge of defeat, staring at the extinction of humankind. It is... not our place to judge."

"It's only our place to fix this whole mess that they made, I get it," Varric chuckled, taking out some carefully packed rations from his backpack and distributing equal shares to everyone present.

Having had a light meal, they set on their way, through the darkspawn clear passages towards the still intact bridge across to the main part of the fortress. Of Larius there was no sign, but the darkspawn had set up another ambush on the bridge, another genlock with a massive shield this time joined by an ogre. Bethany and her friends had learned their lessons, though, not stepping onto the bridge but pelting the darkspawn with spells and crossbow bolts until the enemy grew frustrated and charged them, throwing all caution to the wind. This proved to be a bad decision, the ogre never managing to cross the bridge, Varric's aim proving true again, and the genlock became an easy picking after another clumsy charge, easily dodged by Cullen.

Across the bridge, the hall in the central part of the fortress was a copy of the one on the upper level, with the same seal on its floor. Cullen looked rather grim, watching how Bethany quickly slashed her palm with what seemed like practiced ease, to sprinkle her blood across the surface of the dais, the magic of the seal again drifting upwards to the key, getting absorbed into it. _This... 'Key' is growing very powerful. I suppose that is a good thing. I hope._ Bethany thought at herself. It did not feel wrong as such, and the cold projectiles released through it were potent enough to kill the weaker darkspawn with single blast.

The shield blocking their passage had disappeared and while Bethany was healing her hand, the others already scouted ahead. "We are quite deep into the chasm already," she heard Cullen's voice. "Look ahead, the fortress on the other side, it's fully carved into the cliff by now."

"And there's our friend," Varric said as Bethany caught up with the others quickly. "Over there, on the bridge," he pointed ahead at Larius, shuffling around idly, waiting for them.

"Let's hear what he has to say now..." Bethany spoke, leading the others forward to face the taint-maddened former Commander of the Grey.

"He is waking," Larius spoke in a warning voice, looking around with fear in his eyes. "The magic grows lax... he feels us walk where no step goes..."

"Corypheus?" Bethany asked. "We must be getting close."

"He calls... like an Old God. He calls them to free him!" Larius rambled on. "The dark children and the light, any with taint in their blood..."

"Interesting..." Cullen remarked. "Perhaps that is why this fortress is crawling with the darkspawn? They have been attracted by the call of this Corypheus."

"Presumably the Grey Wardens are similarly affected..." Varric mused. "Which makes me wonder… what if Corypheus controls our friend here without him even knowing it?"

"What exactly is this Corypheus?" Bethany urged Larius, hoping for an explanation. "He's not an Old God, and that is a relief, but... what is he then? A demon? Powerful darkspawn?"

"He is more than darkspawn, more than human," Larius replied enigmatically. "He thinks. He talks. He pierces the Veil. He wants what was once his."

"Pierces the Veil... curious," Bethany mused, looking thoughtful. _Perhaps he is some being with great affinity for magic? Demons or spirits would also qualify, but why not say so then? No, I suspect it is not that simple..._

She was about to demand that Larius explain her father's involvement in the entire matter, but Aveline cut in first. "Why do you keep running off all the time?" she demanded. "Where do you go? Perhaps reporting to your dark master?"

"I must hide in the darkness before the seals," Larius replied fearfully. "Here in the open... his voice is too strong! Too strong!" and with that he quickly limped off again, so deceptively fast that none of them managed to react in time. Bethany felt a little peeved at Aveline's interruption, but the feeling passed quickly. They would likely see Larius again, sooner rather than later.

"I'm betting we'll find another set of stairs leading even lower," Varric said, as they advanced across the bridge. "With my luck we're going to end up in Orzammar where my business partners will skin me alive for getting so behind with correspondence and payments..."

Bethany grinned at that as she followed the others across the chasm yet again. Sure enough, there was a stairway leading downwards, but this time it did not bring them to another level full of passageways. The stairs continued downwards for a long time until leading them out in a wide open area, the very base of the imposing tower and at the bottom of the ominous looking chasm.

"This really does look like the Deep Roads, at least some particularly Ancestor-cursed segment of them," Varric lamented, looking around with disgust on his face. The caverns around them were filled with green water, vile looking mist rising from its surface and encompassing them in a thick shroud, weaving around the countless stalactites and stalagmites surrounding them at every turn. There were also many smaller structures built at the bottom of the caverns here. Perhaps thousands of years ago, this was where the builders of the tower had made their grim base of operations.

As they carefully advanced onwards, trying to see if they could make back across to the central part of the tower, a large lizard-like creature ran across their path, letting out a squeak and disappearing somewhere amidst the rubble. "Deepstalkers," Varric sighed. "I hate those sodding pests. Lightly fried they taste rather fine, which is their sole redeeming feature."

"There!" Bethany pointed ahead of them. A large stone pathway was built to lead directly across the murky green waters and towards the mist surrounded central tower, rising from the chasm just ahead of them. However, the road had collapsed in several places and fall of heavy rocks from above had made it completely impassable, meaning that they would have to make the long way around, through a section of the Deep Roads and the forsaken base of operations.

"Shit," was Varric's aptly colorful summary of this discovery. "Just what I always dreamed about, more wandering around the Deep Roads. Wonderful."

"Ah, stop your whining, Varric," Aveline sighed. "How bad could it be?"

"Don't you know never to ask a question like that?" Varric glared at her. "Seriously, what are you trying to do? Get us attacked by a horde of deepstalkers?"

Suddenly, they were attacked by a horde of deepstalkers.

The creatures swarmed them instantly, crawling out through every crack in the ground, walls, possibly the ceiling above. Pathetic when encountered alone, but formidable in great numbers, these irritating creatures covered them with showers of their acidic, corrosive spit, nearly overwhelming them and submitting them to ignoble, embarrassing demise. Bethany's fire spells had saved them in the end, even at the risk of roasting themselves, they had managed to fry most of the attackers, sending the remaining ones fleeing in a cacophony of pained squeals and squeaks.

After the fight, Bethany felt like her robes were all wet and sticky with the acidic spit, soaking through and starting to burn her skin. Nearby, Cullen was struggling not to scream, his hands gripping at the rocky ground as Aveline poured a healing potion over his face, washing the acid out of the templar's eyes. Varric looked like he was itching all over, constantly reaching inside his leather jacket to scratch himself, cursing loudly.

"This is impossible," Aveline exclaimed through gritted teeth. "We can't go on like this, I can feel... I can feel that slimy acid flowing down under my armor, across my skin... it burns!"

"We need to clean it off, somehow," Cullen agreed, lying on the ground, gingerly trying to open his eyes, letting out a pained sigh and quickly closing them again. "I feel all... itchy. The eyes are the worst, but I think... I think it will be fine. I can see, it just... hurts."

"Don't tell me you're planning to wash yourself in there," Bethany pointed at the sickening green water surrounding them on all sides. The burning itch on her face and hands seemed to intensify, and as she looked at large red spots forming on Aveline's face, she realized her face was probably looking much the same. Suddenly the color of the water no longer seemed all that much of an issue.

"The water itself seems fine, Sunshine," Varric said, also looking increasingly red all over. "We need to get that acid off, or else the skin will be forever ruined. I have seen how that looks. Trust me, you don't want to end up with such scars."

"Good point," Bethany gulped.

"Right then, you two take the left path and I'll take Bethany with me," Aveline quickly ordered, grabbing Bethany by the hand and pulling the girl with her in a hurry. "Varric, you will help Cullen. Lead him towards the water, he should keep his eyes closed."

They sought out the edge of the water behind a small stone outpost, protected from the eyes of the others, not that there was anyone down here interested in their feminine charms. Aveline wasted no time in getting stark naked, wading into the water with clenched teeth, exhaling in relief as the cold water soothed her burning skin. Bethany abandoned her modesty as well, slipping out of her sticky robe and stepping into the water, immediately drawing back from the freezing coldness.

"I know it is very chilly, but it has to be done," Aveline told her, before submerging under the water, then emerging and starting to vigorously rinse her hair, the water making it look dark brown. Bethany sucked in a deep breath and bravely strode further in, trying to ignore the chill. The first few moments were the worst, but her body quickly adjusted to the cold and eventually it no longer felt so uncomfortable. Finally she submerged under the water, only then daring to remove her smallclothes and throwing them back on the shore.

Aveline was out first, calling her to emerge as well, just as she was beginning to enjoy herself in the water, even managing to swim around a little bit. She got out of the water, covering herself with her hands, even if she wasn't sure why she felt self-conscious around Aveline. The redhead certainly must have thought her behavior strange and silly, if her bemused stare was any indication. "You'll have to wash that robe before you put it back on again," Aveline told her. "And I'll have to scrape the inside of that blasted armor. And for Maker's sake, stop acting as if I hadn't seen a naked woman before!"

Bethany felt herself blush deep red. "Err, Aveline? I, ah... don't have any spare clothing with me... as you remember, I hadn't exactly prepared for a trip..." she said humbly.

"Oh. Yes, of course," the redhead replied, rummaging around her pack, throwing a piece of cloth at her. "Dry yourself off or you'll freeze to death. Quickly now," she added impatiently, continuing to go through her belongings. "I have some spares. Pink will suit you, I'm sure," piece of clothing fell at Bethany's feet and she quickly snatched it, feeling much better when she had at least partly covered herself. "As for the rest, I... don't think that I have anything that would fit you..." now it was Aveline's turn to appear a little uncomfortable.

Bethany sighed. "You just had to say that, didn't you. Everyone always makes fun about that. It really gets old fast," she complained bitterly. "Damn that Varric and his stupid serials! I couldn't talk with any man in Kirkwall for months after that, they all tried to converse with my breasts instead..."

"They did the same even before he wrote that, Bethany," Aveline made the painful reminder. "And I don't think he actually had to exaggerate anything on this occasion," she muttered quietly.

"I heard that!" Bethany exclaimed, rolling her eyes. "Sheesh, someone should let me in on what the whole big deal is."

"Well, the only one here who might be interested in stealing a peek would be Cullen, and fortunately for you he can't open his eyes without screaming in pain," Aveline let out a brief chortle. "Anyway, enough of this foolishness, we need to wash our armor, and then we need to dry it. This might take some time."

"We'll need to start a fire," Bethany said, looking around for something combustible, but nothing came in her view. "We might need to retreat back to the fortress. At least there is some salvageable firewood there," she suggested, starting to vigorously wash the deepstalker acid out of her mage robes.

"Good idea, Bethany," Aveline agreed, following her example and starting to scrub her Kirkwall Guard issue armor. "We should be in more safety there as well. Without our armor, most of us are rather ineffectual, unlike you mages."

"You know what would be really irritating, Aveline?" Bethany asked after a good ten minutes of rigorous work.

"What?" the redhead stopped for a moment to look at her.

"If after all this effort we would run into another pack of deepstalkers..." Bethany said.

Aveline's incredulous stare spoke volumes, and her reply only made Bethany break out in hysterical laughter. "Be quiet, Bethany... for the love of Maker, just be quiet!"


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 11**

_9:37 Dragon  
>Royal Palace of Denerim<em>

Riona had to wait three more weeks until she could finally put her carefully laid out plans in motion. Queen Maythre had eventually left on a lengthier trip to western Ferelden, intending to stop at the Circle Tower at Lake Calenhad as well as briefly visit Orzammar. Considering both Maythre and Cauthrien would be away for at least two weeks, this was the perfect time for Riona to make an attempt at reaching the dormant golem.

One night she had waited until everyone in the palace had gone to bed, save the few guards patrolling the corridors. A guard seemed to pass by her doors once roughly every twenty minutes, which was the amount of time she had to successfully pick the lock on Her Majesty's private chambers. Having waited for the guard to walk by the door and retreat, she dashed out to reach the queen's bedroom as fast as she could.

Her fingers were shaking and pain gripped her right shoulder, as she hastily worked on the lock. A strange accident had occurred a few days ago; some elf youth she had never seen before ran up to her and without any provocation, simply stabbed her in the shoulder and darted off. It was not a robbery, nor a serious attempt on her life, but what it was, nobody could explain. Perhaps the elf had simply been mentally unstable.

She was about half-way done with the lock, when all of a sudden she heard the guard's heavy steps approaching from the adjacent hallway. There was nothing to do but to quickly remove all the pins already in place and run back to her chambers, waiting for the guard to pass and then resume her task anew. At least now she already knew what to do and her progress was much swifter, allowing her to slip inside the queen's chambers well before the guard had reached the doors during the next circle of his patrol.

Once inside, she still waited for the guard to pass before she summoned the mage lights. _I just hope she doesn't keep the rod in some magically sealed strongbox,_ Riona thought to herself, starting to rummage through the queen's belongings. Having gone through several drawers full with impossibly white, lavender scented underclothes, Riona decided to try a heavy oaken chest in the darkest corner of the room. It seemed to be filled with various relics from battles of old, part of what looked like a skull of a High Dragon, a delicate sword and pieces of armor with the Theirin regalia, perhaps Cailan's legacy.

There was also a piece of an old shield with MacTir coat-of-arms, likely once wielded by Loghain. A thin diadem with a large diamond in it must have been the crown once worn by Anora. But most importantly, under all these remarkable relics of recent history, there was the prize Riona was after, a thin rod with inscribed dwarven runes across its shaft. _Thank goodness she didn't hide it better than this. I suppose with the command word, there's not much danger that someone could be crazy enough to attempt reactivating the golem._

After some more dodging of the guards, Riona arrived at the entrance to the dungeons. The patrols didn't even circle this far down in the basement, so she was able to work on the lock undisturbed, cracking it relatively quickly. Further in were many dusty storage chambers, full with various junk and not visited in many years. Doors leading deeper into the dungeons were locked as well, but the mechanisms were simple and she didn't lose much time in opening them.

Eventually, she came into a small round chamber, immediately noticing that she had reached her destination. The bulky golem was at least ten feet tall, making her wonder just how they had managed to bring it all the way down here. She ran her hands across the hard, impenetrable stone surface, feeling a little jealous at how invulnerable it felt compared with her own soft flesh, too easy to pierce. There were patches of green glowing crystals fused with rock across the golem's hands and shoulders, something she hadn't noticed in other golems. _Perhaps she, or the previous masters have modified it._

But there was no time for idle musings, the golem needed to be activated quickly. She summoned a pale mage light and pulled out the list of command words that Dagna had prepared for her, writing them in a neat order starting with those most likely to be the correct one. They had discussed Dagna's research at length, both of them concluding that this golem was most likely the one that the Enchanter Wilhelm had used during the wars for Ferelden's independence from the rule of Orlais. Riona remembered legends of those times, about Maric, Loghain and Rowan, tales of their bravery and valor.

It was still not easy to link this golem with whatever corresponded to it in the dwarven records, but Dagna had done an admirable job, narrowing her research to six most promising names. Now, Riona looked at the list, holding the rod in her hand and calling out one command word after another.

Nothing seemed to happen until she reached the fourth name on that list. _Shayle of House Cadash._ "_Dulen harn!_" she called out, and her words were immediately answered with a loud rumble.

"Can you hear me, golem?" she asked cautiously, when the golem made no other movement.

"Yes, Master," came the voice, deep and rumbling, like stone grinding against stone.

_Wonderful... I guess it thinks I'm its master, now._ "How should I call you, golem?" she asked, wondering whether simply referring to the stone creature as a 'golem' or 'it' wasn't too generic or demeaning.

"My previous Master called me Shale," the golem replied, confirming its identity. "But that was until it repaired my control rod. After that, I was merely 'the golem'."

"What do you mean? I don't understand, what does the state of the control rod have to do with anything?" Riona blinked.

"Some fault with the control rod was granting me free will," Shale explained in its monotone voice. "My previous owner considered such a 'flaw' to be offensive and corrected it at the first opportunity. I imagine it did not care for a golem that was not properly obedient."

Riona shuddered from the coldness of such act. "It is true that free will generally is not considered a normal state for a golem," she said. "But to strip someone of it, after they have experienced what it feels like... do you have memories of having free will?"

"...I do." The monotonous voice somehow managed to sound very sad as well.

"Can I do anything to restore your free will?" Riona asked. _I wonder how smart that is to even consider, considering how quickly the golem can squish me,_ she thought. _But I cannot have someone with their free will taken away bonded to me, it's just not right, I must do something about it._

"Well... it could try breaking that control rod," Shale suggested.

"Would that work?" Riona wondered. The golem seemed to be nodding at her. "But... I must confess, I have... err, borrowed the control rod from your previous owner, and I need to return it undamaged to avoid suspicion."

"So the Warden still lives. How... disappointing," Shale rumbled.

"On the other hand, it didn't seem like she had touched that old chest of relics for years..." Riona mused. "Maybe she won't notice if I break it only a little..." She tried to bend the rod, but the thing did not seem to even budge. "Damnation!" Riona exclaimed, frustrated.

"It could order me to break it?" the golem kindly offered.

"Oh! Yes, that is a good idea, Shale. Just don't grind it into dust," Riona said, passing the rod onto the golem. "By the way, Shayle is a girl's name, isn't it?" she asked, feeling curious.

"So I've been told. As it can see I am very gentle," the very tip of the command rod bent and then broke off with a loud crack, "and feminine," Shale added, passing the broken rod back to Riona.

"If she notices this, I'm probably going to be in a lot of trouble," Riona sighed, looking at the broken rod. "Still, I think it was worth it... do you feel any different?"

The golem moved from its spot, looming over her in a way that almost made Riona regret her decision, but Shale merely took a few paces back and forth, looking herself over critically before brushing off some of the dust and grime that had collected on the crystals over the years. "I would prefer if that control rod was as far from the Warden as possible," the golem finally said. "It already has showed some resourcefulness in repairing it once. But never mind the Warden. Now I'm interested why it came all the way down here to stir me from my avian-less slumber?"

"Well... this will probably sound very silly to you, but... I wanted to speak with someone who had travelled together with the Warden during the time of Fifth Blight," Riona explained. "I need to hear the accounts of an eyewitness."

"Interesting," Shale seemed to be squinting at her with as much curiosity as a golem was able to muster. "But I suppose I owe it some gratitude, after all. What does the soft and sloshy creature wish to know?"

Riona chuckled at that description. "Well first of all, tell me whether having free will in any way affected your perception of things or your memories. How do you remember your adventures after she had fixed your control rod?"

"I recall everything as vividly as before that. I was only incapable of forming judgment on the events that came to pass, but I do not believe it is interested in the thoughts of a golem, it is only concerned with the facts."

"Well... not necessarily," Riona said. "For example, I am very curious under what circumstances she fixed that control rod to make you obedient. Were there signs that your loyalty to her was wavering?"

"That is... a long tale," Shale sighed, sounding unhappy. "Sit down, human, and let me start from the beginning..."

* * *

><p><em>9:30 Dragon<br>Deep Roads, The Dead Trenches_

After many grueling battles outside the fortress of Bownammar, in a series of tunnels that their guide, the dwarf Oghren referred to as the Dead Trenches, there finally came a stroke of good luck. They had managed to come across the remains of Paragon Branka's house that she had forced to follow her in search of a mystical artifact called the Anvil of the Void, used in ages long gone to create an army of unstoppable golems. However, discovery came with a disgusting, bloblike, tentacley Broodmother attached to it, so 'good luck' was relative in this case.

Ever since Oghren had told Maythre about this creation of the ancient smith Caridin, Shale thought she could see a greedy expression in the eyes of her Grey Warden master. Creation of golems was a most fascinating process, and the ruthless mage no doubt hoped to learn more about it, thinking these secrets might prove useful.

And then, finally they had found Paragon Branka. Shale had wondered at first how a Paragon could have married a smelly runt like Oghren, but her questions were answered immediately after meeting the Paragon, for Branka was completely and utterly insane. She had sacrificed her entire house, throwing them into Caridin's gauntlet of deadly traps, hoping that they would break through and deliver her to the much desired anvil. And now she expected Maythre and her followers to do the same, while she watched and ranted from the safety of elevated rock formation. As Maythre led hear group through waves of darkspawn, ogres and devious traps that activated ancient machines of mass murder, also known as golems, Shale mentally imagined slowly squishing Branka into a small, bloody puddle of slosh.

Having survived the gauntlet, bloodied and battered they emerged into a wide cavern of red rock. Air here was dry, blazingly hot, like in a veritable forge. Many golems stood at the walls, like trees lined alongside a peaceful boulevard. The cavern ended with a sudden drop of several hundred feet right into a river of molten lava below. And on the edge of the cavern, there stood something beautiful, a radiantly glowing anvil that permeated everything around with its strong, palpable sense of magic.

Maythre and Branka all but ran towards it, when suddenly they found their way blocked by a particularly massive golem, looming over them. "My name is Caridin," the golem intoned in a deep, hollow voice. "Once, longer ago than I care to think, I was a Paragon to the dwarves of Orzammar. If you seek the Anvil, then you must care about my story, or be doomed to relive it."

Shale looked at her creator, frozen with fascination. Once she had venerated all Paragons, like the rest of her kin. But if she had to choose only one, it would have been Caridin. He was her god.

"So, you are the creator of the Anvil of the Void? I would be honored to hear your tale," Shale could hear Maythre's voice.

"Of course you know of the Anvil," the massive golem almost sounded bitter. "My most praised invention, it allowed us to create armies from men of steel… yet, I told no one of the cost." Caridin paused, withdrawing and turning his back on them for a moment. "No mere smith, no matter how skilled, has the power to create life. To make my golems live, I had to take their life from elsewhere. At first, I only used volunteers… but that was not enough for the rulers of Orzammar. This river of lava you see now, in the days gone it often seemed like a river of blood. Then, at some point it became too much. I refused. So they had me put on the Anvil as its next victim. My apprentices knew enough to make me as I am, but not enough to fashion a control rod. I retained my mind."

"My golem companion appears to suffer the same defect," Maythre pointed out, making Shale glare at her master, or at least make an attempt of a glare.

"Ever since, we have remained entombed here, while I sought for a way to destroy the Anvil. But I cannot do it myself, no golem may touch it," Caridin's steel shoulders sagged slightly.

"Destroy the Anvil?" Branka sputtered. "No, you will not do this, I will not allow it!"

"Calm down, I have no intention in seeing something as fascinating destroyed," Maythre said. "In fact, I wish to learn how exactly did you create the Anvil. The process you describe seems entirely magical, yet I am told dwarves have no aptitude for such things. What exactly is it that enables the Anvil to do what it does?"

"Why do you need to know this? So you can enslave more and more souls?" Caridin seemed outraged by her request.

"Both Orzammar and Ferelden could benefit greatly from golems on their side," Maythre mused. "I refuse to allow your guilt inconvenience me."

Maythre was her master. But even her master could not defy the will of her Creator. Shale would not stand for it, the massive cold stone arm spinning Maythre around to face her. "I will not go along with this. I cannot obey it if it disagrees with the Creator," Shale stared at Maythre coldly, if such was even possible with golem eyes. "If the Anvil is so important to it that it cannot feel the wrongness of this, then I will have to help Creator squish it and that mad dwarf."

"Surely, there is no need for violence," Maythre said. After a brief moment of irritation at the diversion in ranks, a small smile quickly appeared on her lips. "If my words somehow suggested that I would be willing to harm the Paragon, then they were poorly chosen."

"Perhaps you don't intend to hurt him, but I surely will, unless he steps away from the Anvil!" Branka growled, drawing her weapon.

"Subdue her," Maythre nodded briefly to Alistair and Sten. Within moments they both tackled the dwarven female, her sword clattering on the ground as she struggled to free herself.

"Branka! Don't throw your life away for this!" Oghren yelled.

"See, this was all a misunderstanding, Shale," Maythre went on in a voice that made Shale stare at her master very suspiciously, as far as golems could appear suspicious. "Perhaps I can apologize with a gift? It is something I have been working on for a while now and only finished recently. I must say, my timing could not have been better."

"Is it a mechanical pigeon smasher or something equally useful and endearing?" Shale asked, curiosity fighting with distrust.

"No, no, nothing like that," Maythre smiled, withdrawing a thin, rune-carved object from her backpack. "It is something every good and obedient golem ought to have. I have fixed your control rod!"

Shale desperately lunged for the rod, but Maythre was faster. _Don't erase my thoughts, my memories, my feelings, now that I again know what they are! I beg y-_

But the Grey Warden mage would not know mercy. And at the wave of her hand, Shale knew only one thing... blind obedience.

* * *

><p><em>Dungeons under the Royal Palace of Denerim<em>

Riona's frame was trembling with anger as Shale finished her gruesome tale. Her mouth felt dry and she swallowed heavily before starting to speak. "I... I cannot imagine doing something so horrific to anyone, golem or not," she said, shivering from horror. "And you have been standing here for seven long years, forgotten... such cruelty..."

"It was not the Warden who put me here, it was Cailan's sneaky widow who demanded that my master put me into dormancy, before clapping the Warden into chains and... I had hoped sending her to fate worse than death, but it appears such has not come to pass."

"Afraid not," Riona gave the golem an apologetic stare. "Maythre is back and ruling Ferelden while Anora is rotting in an unmarked grave. I wonder why the new Queen did not reactivate you though, did she not have any use for a golem?"

"I am rather glad it chose to forget all about me," Shale seemed relieved. "All things considered, this is a nice dungeon. Much better than standing three decades in the Honnleath town square. Ugh, all those pigeons... no, I rather like it here, no damned avian in sight!"

"Umm, if you say so..." Riona reluctantly agreed, then suddenly realizing that she didn't have all that much time left. The morning was approaching fast, and the palace staff would rise soon to start going about their chores. "Shale, I would very much appreciate if you could answer a few questions about your journeys with the Wardens."

The golem peered at her, eventually nodding amiably. "I did tell it that I would indulge its curiosity, yes? Ask and I will answer if I'm able."

"I need to hear everything you know about a creature called Flemeth or Witch of the Wilds," Riona said.

"Ah... the old witch," Shale mused thoughtfully. "That was some battle we had with her. Glorious and bloody, well... not so bloody for me, but she did manage to chip off some of my crystals, that old hag!"

"You fought her? And I presume that you won, else we wouldn't be having this conversation." _She knew whom she was going to fight, and she was certain of the outcome well in advance. And after that, we brought her back to life. Wonderful._

"Quite so," Shale said. "I did expect a little more from the famous Witch of the Wilds. She didn't even manage to kill any of the sloshy humans on our side. Only the qunari and that irritating four legged vermin got heavily trampled. Rather disappointing turn of events, that."

"Hmm, did you... perhaps have a feeling that... Flemeth might have allowed you to kill her?" Riona asked.

"Now why would she do something like that?" Shale seemed confused.

"If she knew that she would be able to return to the world of living somehow," Riona said. _And if it was to her benefit to be considered dead._

"I suppose... yes, now I do remember Morrigan's worries that Flemeth had not truly died her final death," Shale admitted after a moment of thought. "And now that I remember that encounter... yes, I'm loathe to admit that as it diminishes my victory, but... she might have allowed us to overpower her on that day."

"How did you end up fighting her in the first place?"

"It was at Morrigan's insistence. The young Swamp Witch was convinced that Flemeth was going to steal her body, possess her. She talked the Warden into dealing with Flemeth before it came to that," Shale explained. "They found some grimoire in the Circle Tower that had once belonged to Flemeth. That's where Morrigan learned that Flemeth frequently used to possess her daughters when they had come of age. I think she was entitled to be worried, don't you?"

"And she was Flemeth's daughter, of course," Riona repeated, her thoughts racing at these news. _So Flemeth can possess people as well, very interesting. Why use her daughters, though? I suppose... she could raise them, groom them to be the perfect vessels, suited for her needs. It does make sense, I guess. _"Was that your only encounter with Flemeth?" she asked a while later.

"Yes," Shale replied. Riona was about to become disappointed, but then the golem went on. "Of course, the Warden had met her once before. How else would she have met Morrigan?"

"And... do you know anything about that meeting?"

"Maythre would not speak of it, of course," Shale said. "But the other Warden, the whiny and weak-willed one, would sometimes talk about their encounter. Flemeth had saved them both from the top of the Tower of Ishal, when death had seemed imminent. A dragon had swooped in, breathed fire on all the darkspawn and carried them to the safety of her hut in the Korcari Wilds."

_That's rather familiar to what happened with us,_ Riona thought. _It seems that Flemeth only rescues people she has some long-term plans for, though. I wonder what plans did she have for Maythre? _"Why do you think she saved them? Flemeth is not generally regarded as a benevolent creature."

The golem shrugged heavily. "I truly have no idea. She sent Morrigan with the Wardens for some purpose, but I never learned what it was."

_So, Flemeth tried to put her plans in motion through her daughter, but she rebelled against her?_ Riona mused. _Was Maythre merely someone she could attach Morrigan to, or did she have certain plans for the elven mage as well? I suppose I won't find that out, not after all these years... _

"Have I satisfied its curiosity?" Shale's booming voice snapped Riona out of her thoughts.

"For now... you don't mind me coming down here again to pester you with questions?" Riona asked, then remembering something. "Umm... unless you don't plan to break out of this dismal pit?"

"No, that would mean placing it in danger for what it has done for me," Shale looked at her, almost appearing thankful. "That would not be right. I think I will remain here, plotting my revenge against the Warden. No pigeons in sight either, this place will suit me just fine."

"Good to hear," Riona nodded. "I'll be back tomorrow night with more questions!"

"I can hardly wait," Shale replied sarcastically, but Riona was sure the golem was actually glad for the company.

"You know what..." she hesitated before leaving, looking at the command rod, snapped in two halves. "I have decided not to put this back in Maythre's chest of relics. She could repair it and enslave you again. It's just not right." She put the remains of the rod on Shale's large, stone cold palm. "Destroy it for good."

"It is taking a great risk for me," Shale appeared quite moved by her gesture. "Is it certain?"

"I'm certain," Riona nodded fervently.

There was a sound of the rod splintering and then grinding to dust between Shale's hands, before the golem gave her a grateful look. "Thank you."


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 12**

_9:37 Dragon  
>Corypheus's Prison - Farele's Floor<em>

Their forced rest back at the fortress passed with no interruptions. The plan to gather firewood and start a fire turned into a disaster, because what little wood they could salvage was so old that it burned almost instantly and didn't give off much heat at all. In the end, the solution they found was for Bethany to throw fireballs into one of the chambers, making the fallen rocks and collapsed walls there heat up like a slow furnace, and then they simply threw clothes on the hot rocks to dry.

Even so, they had to spend several hours sitting around, wearing nothing but their smallclothes and whatever little the others had packed in their bags, waiting for their clothes to dry. Varric and Aveline seemed to suffer through this inconvenience with the quiet dignity of an old campaigner. Cullen was resting nearby with his still sore eyes closed, but from how his cheeks on a few occasions turned red, Bethany was certain he had stolen a peek or two despite the excruciating pain. _At least Merrill didn't have this kind of silly obsession, it must be a man-thing,_ Bethany decided with an inwardly sigh. _Thankfully Varric isn't really interested in human women, at least I don't have to feel embarrassed because he might stare or something..._

Speaking of Varric, he and Cullen had made a very surprising discovery at the tower base, while going for their swim in the murky green waters. They had come across the body of a dead dwarf in a Legion of the Dead armor. The legionnaire had with him a journal, revealing that he had come down to this dismal pit in search of a Paragon's son, a young dwarf wrongly accused of murdering his sister, when in fact the Carta were to blame. The name of the young man was Tethras Garren.

Varric had heard something of the Paragon Garren, remembering that his time had been hundreds of years ago, early in the Exalted Age, but he wasn't sure if the young prince had ever been found. He had tried to downplay the whole discovery, but Bethany could sense the dwarf was hopeful and excited to find out more about this little mystery they had uncovered.

Soon afterwards, properly dressed in their robes and armor, they advanced back down the stairway and to the base of the tower again, now being much more mindful about possible deepstalker ambush. Varric made certain to always scout well ahead, anxious to avoid another shower of corrosive acid. Cullen's eyesight was still not back to normal, and the templar was struggling to keep up, but he fought on bravely nevertheless.

They seemed to be about half-way around the Deep Roads passages leading to the main fortress, when Varric returned from his scouting ahead with a sour expression on his face. "A patrol of darkspawn ahead," he reported.

"That's not a big deal," Aveline shrugged. "I would hardly expect you to be so upset about some darkspawn."

"They are patrolling next to a massive deepstalker nest..." Varric finished.

Bethany groaned. "And they don't attack the darkspawn, I guess? Well that's just wonderful."

"No, they're not really interested in the tainted flesh of those darkspawn bastards," Varric grumbled.

"Perhaps... they could be provoked into attacking the darkspawn?" Cullen humbly suggested. "It was just a thought, I have no idea if they would actually fall for that..."

Varric brightened up immediately. "Hey, that's not a bad suggestion, not bad at all!" he scrambled back to his vantage point, upon the wall of another stone hewn outpost. "That big deepstalker looks like some kind of a leader of the pack... let's see if I can hit it right as those hurlocks walk by..." There was a quick release of the bolt, a surprised squeal of pain and suddenly total havoc broke loose in the section ahead of them. They all climbed up to sit next to Varric and observe the desperate battle before their eyes.

The deepstalkers swarmed the darkspawn like irritated ants, hissing, spitting and snarling, doing their best to overwhelm their surprised opponents. The darkspawn armor and blighted skin was all covered in a thick layer of green mucus, slowing them down and gradually burning their flesh away. One after another the hurlocks collapsed, getting torn to pieces by the enraged critters. The deepstalkers had suffered terrible losses as well, and Bethany quickly sought to exploit it, standing tall on the battlements and calling down a storm of fire upon the hapless creatures. A roaring fireball put to rest the last few stragglers, trying to drag their semi-roasted carcasses to safety. With huge sighs of relief they climbed down from the wall, grateful that these irritating creatures would bother them no more.

Large collection of ancient housings, temples and workshops awaited them ahead, making Varric pause as he led them on. "Do you mind if we look around some more?" he asked. "I would like to see if I can find more signs of that Paragon Garren's son..."

"Very well," Aveline conceded, looking around. "There is a lot to search, though. Take Cullen with you and go left. Bethany and I will go through the compounds to our right."

"Is that wise?" Cullen seemed worried. "Are we truly safe here?"

"If there was someone else here with us, they would have been attracted by that battle between the darkspawn and the deepstalkers," Bethany said, hoping she was right in her assumptions. "I _think_ we should be fine for now..."

"We meet back here in half an hour," Aveline ordered. "Yell if you run into something... unpleasant."

"Oh, we're excellent at yelling," Varric chuckled as he and Cullen disappeared behind a row of stalagmites, heading towards a dark stone building that looked like barracks of sorts.

"Let's go," Aveline told Bethany, pulling her to the other side, a series of low fortifications, stairways leading to many carved chambers below them. Some of them had been filled with sarcophagi, perhaps serving purpose of ancient burial grounds for all those who had lost their lives while building this demented fortress.

Bethany halted her step when a while later they came across a larger structure, majestic stone pillars rising high into the air, stairs lined with urns giving strange green light like the ones at the elven mountain graveyard on the top of Sundermount. She quickly rushed up the stairs, intrigued by the sight. "Come take a look at this, Aveline! It seems like some ancient temple!"

"Just be careful," Aveline warned her, rushing to catch up.

"It's just an old, abandoned temple-" Bethany started to speak, but was cut off by a cold, disembodied voice, speaking as if directly into her skull. "_Blessed are you, Dumat, silent and strong, secret and wise. Accept these offerings and share your strength._"

Bethany staggered, almost falling back down the stairs, steadying herself at the last moment. "Please tell me you heard that," she gave Aveline a pleading look.

The Guard-Captain's face looked unnatural shade of pale. "I... I did," she admitted. "What... a load of nonsense. Dumat is long gone, killed at the end of the First Blight! Everyone knows that!"

"I wonder if Dumat himself is aware of it..." Bethany added quietly.

"Why is his temple here, in a Grey Warden fortress?" Aveline spoke harshly, as if demanding the answers from Bethany. "They would never revere a creature like him! Why would anyone worship a long dead deity?"

"I don't know Aveline," Bethany shrugged her shoulders. "Perhaps someone who has not heard of his demise? Someone imprisoned in this damned fortress?"

"You mean... this Corypheus?" Aveline asked.

"Perhaps," Bethany said thoughtfully. "Larius said his... song can command all those who carry the taint. Perhaps he has... instructed the darkspawn to build and maintain this shrine for him? In any case... I think we won't learn anything else until we can confront Corypheus himself."

"My blood churns from leaving this unholy site intact," the redhead gave the shrine a disgusted look before turning around and following Bethany away from the scene.

"I know, but if Corypheus can sense what is happening here, I don't think we should make him more angry," Bethany said, feeling a slight chill in her bones as they eventually tracked their way back to where they had parted with Cullen and Varric.

The two men already expected them, Varric's brow furrowed deep as he was going through the belongings of another unfortunately trapped victim of this dreadful place. "A journal of another Legionnaire," he explained, seeing them approach. "Paragon Garren had been sending them down here for ten years to rescue his son. Once they ended in these accursed tunnels they realized it was a trap, but had no way of warning the others who were sent after them..."

"A horrible fate," Aveline breathed out, shaking her head in sorrow.

"We found another one," Varric withdrew another journal. "Says the same thing. Paragon Garren refused to give up on his son. He must have been driven mad by the injustice shown to young Tethras."

"If the prince indeed came into these passages, then his remains are likely still down here, Varric," Cullen said.

"That's probably true," Varric agreed, shaking his head. "He was never properly laid to the Stone either, the poor sod. It would feel right to do as much for him."

"Then let us hope we come across him along the way," Bethany said.

"Indeed. I would not let that distract us from getting out of this creepy tower, though," Varric said, placing the journals of the legionnaires into his backpack and getting ready to resume their travels. "In the good news, the bridge connecting this side to the main tower is just ahead of us. We're almost there."

"Thank the Maker," Cullen sounded relieved as they finally moved onwards again.

The narrow stone bridge leading across the murky deep green waters was inevitably chosen as a site of another darkspawn ambush. With the billowing mist rising from the water, they almost missed the charging genlock, hiding behind the massive shield. Everyone managed to dodge out of its way, except for Aveline who had no other option but to collapse on the stone floor, allowing the darkspawn to trample her a bit, but the end result was the genlock running off the bridge and charging into the water, the weight of its armor and the strapped shield pulling it down to the bottom and death from drowning.

They quickly made all the way across, arriving at the base of the main tower. Looking up they could see daylight far above them, the massive tower rising at least two hundred feet high, if not more. Bridges led off from the main structure towards the rest of the fortress carved into the rock, white mist shrouded the whole fortress, slowly circling around, which was creepy for the sole reason of there not being any wind to cause this in the first place.

Large chunks of rock and stone stood in their way and they chose the right passage to try and circle around the barricades and reach the fortress. It lead to a dead end soon after, however, it also brought them to important discoveries. In the middle of a clearing there burned a magically constructed fireplace, that seemed to have been erected fairly recently. Someone had even left their hastily made notes behind them, and Bethany pounced on them before anyone else could.

"Interesting..." she said, having read an old Grey Warden treatise including some speculations on Kirkwall. "They have drawn a link between the imprisonment of Corypheus here and endless plagues of violence, lunacy, human sacrifice and blood magic striking Kirkwall. They think it obvious that some malevolent force has long shaped Kirkwall's history."

"The more I learn about this Corypheus, the less eager I am to meet him," Aveline remarked bitterly.

"I mean, sure, we knew about those seals below the Undercity, thinning the Veil and making the mages in the city struggle to retain their sanity," Bethany spoke thoughtfully. "Add this Corypheus into the mix... and you no longer have to wonder why and how everything ended in such a disaster..."

"Varric!" came Cullen's voice from the opposite side of the clearing. "I think this might be what you were looking for..."

They all approached the scene to see a skeletal corpse of a dwarf, inside a slightly smudged but nevertheless very impressive suit of armor, one that could only belong to a royalty of some kind. "That's him alright," Varric said, sighing and starting to speak in Dwarven. "_Atrast tunsha. Totarnia amgetol tavash aeduc._"

They all stood silently over the corpse for a while, until Varric shifted and walked away, the others following. "So, Varric..." Bethany decided to ask. "The prince's name was Tethras, yes? I can't help but notice a certain similarity with your family name..."

"Some time after the tragedy, the Garren family changed their name to Tethras in honor of the lost prince," Varric replied. "That's all there is, Sunshine."

"But... but that means..." Bethany froze in her tracks, realization dawning on her. "You're a descendent of a Paragon! That's... that's..."

"That's really not as big a deal as you're making it," Varric attempted a nonchalant chuckle, but it didn't sound entirely convincing. "Anyway, we've wasted too much time on ancient history that probably would have been left buried."

"You don't really think that, Varric," Aveline said, stepping in line with them.

"No... no, I suppose I don't," Varric admitted with a sigh.

The road they were travelling now slowly curved around the base of the fortress, rising gradually the whole time. After another turn and a steeper rise, they could see it finally leading them onto the base level of the fortress, and there was no mistaking the familiar green glow of the seal etched in the floor of the large hall.

"Well, no sense wasting time," Bethany said, preparing to cut her palm again. Nobody said anything, and moments later drops of her blood splashed across the dais, the Key once again eagerly drinking the released energies of the glyph.

As soon as the shield blocking their exit dispersed, Varric was through the opening, scouting ahead. He returned scant moments later. "Well, this is leading us away from the central part again, across and back to the other side of the fortress," he reported.

"If it is the only way forward, I suppose we have no choice," Cullen said.

"Where's Larius?" Aveline wondered as they all stepped out on the bridge. "We haven't seen him in a wh-"

Her words were interrupted by violent shakes of the ground beneath them, sand and small pebbles seeping from the ceiling above. "He wakes! He is getting ever closer to awaking!" Larius was suddenly in front of them again, waving his arms excitedly. "He can sense us getting close, you must be ready!" Before anyone could utter their questions, however, Larius turned to stare behind him, appearing frightened. "What's that?" he asked nervously. "Who? No... no. They're here!"

"Who's here?" Aveline demanded. "Start making sense, you madman!"

"The Wardens! They are here... and they listen to Corypheus!" Larius added warningly, scampering off with great speed before anyone could prevent him from leaving. "Stop them!" he hissed while retreating. "You must stop them!"

They were all still watching his hasty departure when a group of people wearing the familiar blue and white striped armor of the Grey Wardens rounded the corner and approached the bridge from the other side. The group of four was lead by a middle-aged female, perhaps a few years older than Aveline, with hardened green eyes and short brown hair, speaking animatedly to her other colleagues. "The prison seems to be breaking down," the woman spoke. "But it's stood up to tunneling before. What can-"

They froze immediately as they saw Bethany and the others standing in their path. "You!" the woman shouted, her stare chained to the Key in Bethany's hands. "You have the key! And you've come through the seals! But how? Unless... you are the daughter of Malcolm Hawke. Champion of Kirkwall!"

"No, no," Bethany gave an uneasy laugh. "You are confusing me with my sister, Riona."

"But you still share the same blood, of course," the Grey Warden leader said. "I am Janeka. I am in charge of this unit of Grey Wardens," she waved at her associates.

"Then maybe you can clear up some things for me," Bethany said, keeping her voice neutral. "I know my father was here and did something. Tell me what it was," she asked with the intent of testing how trustworthy this Janeka would prove to be.

The woman stared intently at the fortress ahead of her. "The Grey Wardens built this prison to contain one of the most powerful darkspawn we've ever encountered," she started to explain. "But even the best magic fades and the seals need to be reinforced. This requires the blood of a mage untainted by Warden training. The last to perform the ritual was your father."

_I figured as much,_ Bethany thought. "You forced him into using blood magic," she said, unable to completely leave the anger out of her voice.

"Sometimes such measures are necessary to prevent Blights," Janeka shrugged in response. "We need your help, Hawke. I have done extensive research on this darkspawn and I believe the original Wardens were wrong. Corypheus is not a threat to humanity, he's our greatest opportunity! A darkspawn who can talk, feel, reason..."

"...is a far more dangerous opponent than any other darkspawn?" Cullen cut in quickly.

"Corypheus cares nothing for Blights!" Larius' arrival back on the scene took them all by surprise. "He used you!" he pointed a rotting, accusing finger at Janeka.

"The Warden-Commander!" the other Wardens behind Janeka's back whispered amongst themselves, their resolve suddenly filled with doubt.

Janeka swirled around to face her comrades. "Don't listen to this... creature! He's half darkspawn himself! I know how to harness Corypheus, use his magic to end the Blights."

"No!" Larius protested. "The old Wardens knew! Corypheus is far too powerful!"

"The Wardens imprisoned him here for a reason, Bethany," Aveline warned her from behind. "Be careful with what you decide."

"Corypheus calls to her and she listens!" Larius exclaimed. "She brought him the Carta! Sent the Carta for you!"

_That makes a lot of sense,_ Bethany realized. _I don't trust Larius, not fully. But this woman... what she proposes is completely insane. To take control of an evil being of immense power like that? I've heard stories of plans like that, and they have all ended in disaster. _

"You must help us!" Janeka looked at her, demanding, furious at Larius' interruption.

"No," Bethany looked at her defiantly. "My father restored these seals to hold this creature because it was the right thing to do. I will trust my father to know best. I will not aid in your crazy plans."

"As you wish, Hawke," Janeka spat, her hands lighting up with flame, as she readied a spell. "We will do this with or without you!" A shield of flame grew between them and the Wardens, allowing the latter to escape quickly. "This prison will be broken!" Janeka shouted as they retreated. "The Blights will end!"

"Come with me!" Larius shouted, rushing in the opposite direction. "We can still beat them to the last seal, but only if you follow me!"

"I think you chose well, Bethany," Cullen told her as they set in a run to chase after Larius.

"Definitely," Varric agreed with a chuckle. "Following the crazy old guy over the boring Warden with the insane plan... definitely sounds way more fun!"


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 13**

_9:37 Dragon  
>Royal Palace of Denerim<em>

Riona kept sneaking down to the palace dungeons for many nights afterwards. Shale seemed quite pleased to see her, glad for having a visitor after many years of collecting dust, forgotten by all and everyone, even her cruel master. Many stories had been exchanged, the grateful golem embracing the role of a storyteller, even if at times it was hard to keep Shale from embarking on yet another tale of revenge on pigeons of Ferelden.

She had learned many truths that the Queen would no doubt prefer were never heard again. Like the one revealing the true fate of the Orlesian girl, Leliana. On her master's orders, Shale herself had carried the young bard's body out of the Radcliffe Castle, through its dungeons and a secret entrance in an old windmill. Maythre had never explained why she had killed the girl, they appeared to have been on good terms before. Shale thought that Leliana had simply learned something she wasn't supposed to know or had seen too much. Now she rested in the embrace of the Maker for eternity, buried somewhere in the sparse pine woods surrounding Redcliffe.

Maythre's fellow Grey Warden, the young ex-templar Alistair, had the strongest claim to Ferelden's throne, certainly he seemed far more deserving of it than Anora or Eamon, not even to mention the blood mage currently occupying the seat. Even if Riona admitted this to herself, she wondered just how much good he would have done for the mages of Ferelden for even if Maythre's methods were distasteful, the results appeared... commendable. But in the end Alistair had been betrayed by both Anora and Maythre, only nearly escaping with his life. Shale seemed very surprised by Maythre's decision to rescue Alistair and send him into exile. The golem claimed it would have been more in character for the queen to have executed Alistair herself, this strange moment of weakness and compassion puzzling both Shale and now Riona.

Of the queen's elven lover, Zevran, Shale did not have much to say. He had been fiercely loyal to Maythre throughout their adventures, though the golem could not have said whether this was the result of the Warden's blood magic or not. Shale was unwilling to dwell on memories concerning Zevran ever since she got reminded of the times where the Warden had put her on guard duty while she and her lover sneaked away from the camp for some alone time. The mental image of two naked elves busy in a heated coupling session appeared to be mentally scarring for any decent golem.

The qunari Sten was not worth of in-depth inquiries, despite Shale seeming rather appreciative of the warrior from Par Vollen. After the defeat of the archdemon, he had simply returned home, having no further involvement in the events in Ferelden. Likewise for their dwarven guide in the Deep Roads, Oghren. Maythre had dragged Paragon Branka to King Bhelen, tied up and ranting, and Oghren had been forced to remain in Orzammar and enjoy the delights of married life together with a screaming, obsessed lunatic of a wife.

And lastly there had been Morrigan, a most disagreeable and irritating creature, as Shale put it. The golem admired some of the qualities of the Swamp Witch, her fierce, often hostile independence, and lack of fear from anything they came across. But her intent in every conversation had been simply to insult, so she had not formed warm relationship with anyone, Maythre being the sole exception. Those two had appeared to grow into friends over the course of their travels, so it came as a big surprise to Shale and the others to one morning simply find Morrigan gone, on the very eve of their big battle with the archdemon.

Regrettably, Shale had no explanations for this. Her master had not asked Shale to dispose of any bodies, so the golem didn't believe Maythre had killed Morrigan during some argument. The Swamp Witch had fled, but why? She certainly was not terrified of the darkspawn horde or the archdemon. There was a reason why she had left, but the only ones who knew what it was were Morrigan herself and Maythre. It was a dead end, as the queen was unlikely to approve of inquiries made in this direction.

With all stories of those days exhausted and the queen returning from her trip to Western Ferelden any day now, Riona had to stop seeing Shale. She was quite sad to abandon the golem in those dark dungeons, but Shale seemed satisfied with this turn of events. Patient and silent, she would wait there in the dark, unmolested by pigeons, unbeknownst to her old master having her free will restored and slowly hatching plans to one day squish Queen Maythre into small pile of bloody mash. If there was one thing that golems clearly had on their side... it was time.

* * *

><p><em>9:37 Dragon<br>Howe Estate, Denerim_

"I'm just relieved the Queen has taken no notice of your... ill-advised meddling," Nathaniel told Riona, as she was once again having a late dinner at his place. It had become almost a tradition, especially now that Queen Maythre no longer seemed interested in prodding her about the adventures in Kirkwall. "I hope it was worth it."

"I think so. I didn't learn anything conclusive, but plenty of interesting things nonetheless," Riona replied. _And I've confirmed Flemeth's involvement in the events that transpired here. The Fifth Blight would have never been defeated as swiftly as it was, unless for her rescue of Maythre and Alistair. The only question remains... is she still involved in whatever is happening in Ferelden currently..._

"Mind you..." Riona resumed talking after a moment of thoughtful silence. "Maybe I shouldn't linger around Denerim for much longer now that I have what I wanted. Maythre might eventually discover that I have poked my nose where it doesn't belong... and people who do that tend to discreetly disappear. That would be bad, yes?"

"That would be very bad," Nathaniel looked at her worriedly. Then he smiled, snapping his fingers. "I've got an idea," he said. "I was thinking that I should return to Amaranthine soon. Why don't you come with me? There is a lot to see, the Vigil's Keep is impressive, the land is wild, untamed and beautiful in its own dangerous way."

Riona felt a shiver of uncertainty pass through her. She liked Nathaniel a great deal, she truly did, and at the same time she felt there was more behind this invitation. There had been flirting before, idle, casual touch of his hand that sent her heart racing and still made her feel more guilty than anything else. If she would agree to this trip, he would no doubt see it as a sign to be more straightforward with her. Did she want that?

_Amaranthine is the old hunting ground of Anders and Justice, though. They had fought some darkspawn there, and even Maythre started to show interest in that. Perhaps I should use the opportunity to explore..._ she tried to rationalize the choice, trying to get rid of the associated guilt. "Well... it does sound tempting, Nathaniel, but... I'm not sure the Queen would appreciate me taking an extended leave from Denerim."

"Have you asked her?" Nathaniel suggested. "You say she insists that you are no prisoner. Let her prove those words with her deeds."

"...very well, I will ask," Riona finally acceded. "But I don't promise anything." Nathaniel shrugged. "When do you plan to leave?"

"In two days," he replied. Riona felt her heart clench, the emotion unpleasantly strong.

"I'll let you know my decision before then," she said quietly. A less comfortable silence descended upon the table, neither of them sure how to continue, and Riona was pleased for the interruption of the servants, starting to clean up the table from the empty dishes in front of them.

Another bottle of wine appeared on the table, and a few glasses later, Riona started to feel more relaxed again, looking to pick up the lost thread of conversation. "I've been meaning to ask for a long while now, ever since you mentioned Amaranthine for the first time. After the Fifth Blight, when you returned to your home there... did you ever encounter an apostate mage named Anders? Or a... being called Justice?"

Nathaniel looked at her, his eyes wide with surprise. "I certainly did. Both of them, in fact. Together we battled the darkspawn that were threatening the entire arling. But Anders left with the Wardens after that, having been conscripted into their Order to escape the templars, and of Justice I saw no sign either. How do you know of them?"

"I ran into Anders and Justice in Kirkwall," Riona spoke heavily. "But they... were no longer two separate entities. They had merged into one being. Justice had possessed him."

"What? Oh... oh no. Maker... so he listened to me then, after all? I should not have said anything, I should have kept my mouth shut," Nathaniel looked very distressed.

"...what did you say, Nathaniel?" Riona looked at him, worried at his reaction.

"Justice had possessed the body of a fallen Grey Warden, and at one point we started talking about what will happen after the body would... rot away completely. I asked him whether he would possess a living being to continue his existence in this realm, but he was terrified at such demonic act," Nathaniel explained. "Then... then I told him that if his recipient was willing, then there would be nothing demonic about it. Now I worry that those were my words that urged Anders to... to do what he did..."

Riona swallowed heavily. _He's to blame for Anders merging with Justice. If not for those words, perhaps the thought would have never occurred to them. And then... perhaps the Chantry in Kirkwall would still be standing..._

"What's wrong?" Nathaniel was immediately at her side, his hand on her shoulder comforting.

_No... I can't tell him about Bethany. I shouldn't. It's not truly his fault, and he should not be feeling guilty about it._ "It... didn't end well for them, Nathaniel," she said instead. "I'm sorry. You couldn't have known."

"Is Anders..." Nathaniel withdrew his hand, looking stricken.

"He's gone, Nathaniel. The spirit of Justice... changed while within him, his anger at the injustice towards mages twisted the spirit into something terrible. Did the news about the destruction of Kirkwall's Chantry reach Denerim?"

"Yes, while the Queen's sycophants were tearing down our own Chantry," Nathaniel smirked.

"Anders did it," Nathaniel stared at her, shocked. "He thought it would buy freedom for the mages of Free Marches and elsewhere. It was his last act in this life. He died soon afterwards."

"Unbelievable..." Nathaniel whispered. "Something I said so many years ago... it helped Her Majesty start her war with the templars. Perhaps I should report this to her and ask for a reward of some kind?" he added bitterly.

"I can imagine it's not easy to comprehend," Riona told him sympathetically, then rising from the table. "I should take my leave though, it is getting past the time when it is no longer socially acceptable for a young lady to remain alone in company of an eligible nobleman."

Nathaniel burst into laughter. "You never fail at distracting me from dark thoughts, Riona. Thank you."

"Well, I imagine you will have a lot to think about regardless," Riona said. "I promise to send you a message before you leave for Amaranthine."

He rose to escort her outside. "And I will pray the contents of your message will please me."

* * *

><p><em>The next evening at the Royal Palace, Denerim<em>

Her Majesty Maythre, Queen of Ferelden, was busy in discussion with her second in command, Ser Cauthrien, when the knock on the doors of her study interrupted their busy hatching of wily schemes. "Enter!" she called, displeased with the disturbance.

"My apologies, Your Majesty," it was Shilla, the elven maid, her head bowed. "Lady Hawke wishes to see you, if you have a few minutes to spare. I can tell her to wait..."

"I will see her right away," Maythre decided. Their plans could wait, now that they already had been interrupted. "Send Hawke in."

A few moments later, Hawke entered. She was wearing the silver embroidered, heavy brown adventuring robes that she had on when Cauthrien had captured her on the Wounded Coast. The robes had since been fixed by the Formari crafters under her care, their enchantments refreshed and bolstered. The crest of her noble family was emblazoned in red across the chest and the back of the robes, and the young woman before her seemed to wear the garb with great pride.

"What can I do for you, Champion?" she addressed her guest.

"Your Majesty," Riona started with a small curtsey. "I have a question... or a request, if I may be so bold."

"Come sit with us, my friend," Maythre pointed at an empty chair at her desk, next to where Cauthrien sat, eyeing Hawke with undisguised distrust. "Tell me what is on your mind."

"Well..." Hawke said, once she had taken her seat. "I have already told you everything I know about the events in Kirkwall, and considering we have barely talked since your return from Orzammar... I was wondering if my presence here in Denerim is necessary."

"Do you wish to leave?" Maythre asked. She knew this request would come sooner or later. In fact, she had expected Hawke to attempt to flee without informing her; she was glad to see that was not the case, for it meant the girl trusted her at least somewhat.

"I thought... maybe I could travel the land for a bit, go see the places I spent my youth," Riona explained.

"Then you are welcome to do so, my friend," Maythre smiled magnanimously. "As I told you before, you are not a prisoner here. You may leave at any time you want, and you don't need to stay in Ferelden."

"I... I thank you, Your Majesty," Hawke appeared both surprised and overjoyed.

"If you could indulge my curiosity though, perhaps you can tell me which way you are headed," the Queen asked then.

"I was thinking of returning to Lothering first, and see what is left of it. Perhaps Ostagar as well," Riona replied.

"Then I wish you a pleasant journey, my dear friend," the Queen said, reaching out for a warm handshake and an exchange of smiles. Hawke departed shortly after, delighted at the ease with which she had been released from the nonexistent imprisonment.

As the doors closed behind Hawke, Cauthrien's disapproving stare fixed upon the Queen. "Where is the wisdom in this?" she asked, shaking her head. "The girl knows too much, will you let her run around unchecked?"

Maythre did not reply. She simply kept smiling as she withdrew a strange, glowing red object from the drawer of her desk, casually flipping it through her fingers. It looked like a large ruby of sorts, dark red liquid flowing inside, the crystal shell sparkling enchantingly in the candlelight. "What is that?" Cauthrien asked.

"Do you remember how Hawke got stabbed one evening, for no apparent reason?" the Queen asked, still grinning smugly. "A bizarre incident to be sure, nobody could make any sense of it."

"I remember," Cauthrien said curtly. "What of it?"

"I happened to come across the knife with Hawke's blood," Maythre explained, wicked grin on her lips. "There was just enough of it for me to manufacture this," she threw the gem lightly in the air before catching it again in her nimble fingers. "It really is oh so very easy!"

"You don't mean..."

"Yes," Maythre laughed. "It's Hawke's phylactery. Marvelous idea, isn't it?"

"Using the tools of the templars yourself?" Cauthrien shuddered as she spoke. "There's something very sinister about that."

"My dear Cauthrien... there is great wisdom in learning from our enemies, remember that," Maythre chuckled. "And now... I can see how much Hawke trusts me after all. Will she go to Lothering as she told me? I will see it all."

"Devious," Cauthrien nodded. "You really do think of everything."

"Indeed, I do... with this phylactery, I will be able to track Hawke for the rest of her life. Dear girl... she doesn't even realize being on a leash... and who holds that leash..."


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 14**

_9:37 Dragon  
>Corypheus's Prison - Riannon's Floor<em>

Wondering whether it was for the lack of better options or simply shortage of common sense, Bethany together with the others followed Larius into the labyrinth of the fortress, walking at a brisk pace in order to keep up with the old Commander of the Grey. Their wily guide stopped ever so often, pushing and pulling at levers and strings that they would have never noticed, activating ancient wards and barriers that were meant to slow down the advance of Janeka and her group.

Now and then walking the narrow stone bridges connecting parts of the fortress, they could see Janeka's group moving through the other side of the ancient prison, stopping briefly to disable the wards before progressing further again, accompanied by Larius' cursing. They were accompanied by a group of Carta dwarves, a proof of Larius' words that it had been Janeka who had brought the Carta to Corypheus. The dwarves would never listen to the Grey Wardens, unless someone possessing their minds would order them to do so.

As Larius kept throwing obstacles in Janeka's way, so did she respond by planting Carta ambushes along their path, now and then a group of dwarves emerging from the shadows to surprise them. They proved only a minor hindrance however, and Bethany believed Varric's explanation that if their minds wouldn't have been twisted by the influence of Corypheus, these dwarves would never sacrifice their lives in these hopeless ambushes.

"Yes... yes, we are on the right path..." Larius mumbled, leading them into another series of passageways that looked exactly the same as previous corridors to Bethany, but she had no choice but to trust the ancient Warden on this. "I remember being here... long time ago. With the Hawke fellow..."

"You mean Malcolm," Bethany said, remembering that she had meant to interrogate Larius about the circumstances in which her father had been made to help the Grey Wardens. "My father."

"Good man, that Hawke," Larius spoke without even looking at her, lurching ahead in his stumbling step. "Inquisitive, observant... a talented mage and of fine character, even for an apostate."

"That sounds as if you almost judge him for being an apostate," Bethany felt a little surprised. She had always thought the Grey Wardens to be accepting of any means with which to combat the Blight, blood magic included, but it almost felt as if Larius disapproved. "If you have not noticed, I am an apostate myself. Some might even call me a maleficar..."

She was left cursing herself inwardly as soon as she saw Cullen's sharp turn of the head into her direction. "A heavy accusation to make," the Knight-Captain said, his stare uncomfortably inquisitive. "Would you say they were completely baseless?"

"Doesn't Riona's actions at the Gallows make her a maleficar as well?" Aveline gave Cullen a less than fond stare.

"They do," Cullen admitted. "The word 'maleficar' seemed so clearly damning, for as long as I've served with the Order. After Meredith... everything seems to have been turned upside down. Except my faith in the Maker."

"What exactly did Ri do?" Bethany asked, feeling a mite nervous. "You were not specific before."

"She used blood magic to save me from certain death at the very last moment," Aveline said simply. "I may be a little biased here, but I won't deny being glad she did so."

"Don't forget it also allowed Bianca to put a lovingly fired bolt through Meredith's skull," Varric said, sounding highly pleased.

"If my father has used blood magic here, then he would have done it for very good reasons," Bethany remarked, looking at Larius again. "Reinforcing the seals, imprisoning demons running loose… it falls in the category of those good reasons."

"Yes, your father was a fine man, girl. Such a keen mind. Bright, so full of many questions," Larius replied as they kept walking. "Wish we would have talked more, but it was not to be. Bad blood… too much bad blood…"

"Bad blood?" Bethany asked. "You forced him to come here, didn't you? Maybe you never asked him if he wanted to help or not? Maybe you just dragged him here as a prisoner, like the Carta brought me?" her voice rose to a higher pitch, the demands more insisting and heated.

But Larius did not dignify her with an answer, instead surging into a wider hall ahead. "Here, quickly… the paths converge here, and if we get there first…" his words were interrupted as the group of Grey Wardens emerged at the other end of the hall. "Damnation, they have kept up with us!"

"Did you really think these old wards could stop me?" Janeka called out as they met in the middle of the hall. "Look at you," she said, staring at Larius with disgust, "barely able to string two thoughts together. You've only made it this far because of Hawke!"

"Don't listen to his voice! Stop this madness!" Larius warned, but Janeka would not listen. She slammed her staff against the stone tiles, shapes rising all around them as she did so, figures of fear inspiring arcane horrors and a mighty revenant. Laughing madly, the Warden mage ran off to a newly opened exit, leading her three fellows as the summoned demons jumped on Bethany and her group.

The battle against the powerful demons was long and exhausting, and they all needed treatment for injuries afterwards. Aveline had suffered some heavy blows from the revenant, leaving a couple of uncomfortable looking dents in her plate armor, making her movement slightly restricted. Cullen had done brilliantly, using his templar abilities to neutralize the powerful arcane horrors, and without their array of deadly spells, the demonic creatures had gone down quickly, aided by Varric's marksmanship. Still, Bethany and Varric had suffered from the opponent's spells, and required healing before they could rush after Janeka, ignoring the impatient prodding of Larius to get them moving again.

"Stop rushing us, you crazy ghoul," Aveline told him off, nonplussed. "We will not run into harm's way while not being at our best. You can forget that."

"Why is there even such a hurry?" Bethany wondered. "You did say that the combination of the Key and the blood of the Hawke are the only means with which to open the seal. We have both of those things, while they have none. We can take this at our own pace."

"And allow them to throw more surprises our way?" Larius argued. "They can take the Key and blood from your corpse, girl. We should not let them prepare another ambush!"

"Speaking of ambushes," Cullen rose and stretched, testing his sword arm with a slight wince. "Did she summon these powerful demons? If so, she must be a maleficar of no small skill."

"Janeka? Pfft," Larius scoffed. "She could not summon a nug or a deepstalker. She simply activated some of the prison's old defenses... consisting of powerful, bound demons."

"Well, that sounds lovely," Varric sighed. "You're the expert on this old prison, so you should know about any other surprises in our immediate future. Why don't you share this knowledge with us?"

"Don't be a fool!" Larius snapped. "I know of hundreds of deathtraps in this place, but even that is merely a fraction of them all! If Janeka has discovered some herself, they are unlikely the same that I know of."

"This just keeps getting better and better," Varric responded with a roll of his eyes.

"But we are close to Corypheus. Only a little further," Larius then added.

"Perhaps this would be a good moment to discuss our plan when we actually come face to face with that creature," Cullen suggested.

"We deal with Janeka and her cronies. We break the final seal. We kill Corypheus," Aveline deadpanned. "Or were you looking for something more specific?"

Cullen smiled uneasily. "I meant, what can we expect from this Corypheus. He will likely use powerful, dark magics against us, but beyond that, do we know anything else?"

"Much as I don't like going into battle unprepared," Bethany said, looking at Larius. "I don't think anyone can help us with specifics on this occasion. We'll just... need to stay on our toes and react quickly to anything he throws our way."

"I like the way you think, Sunshine," Varric chuckled, as they all got up and prepared to leave, catching up to Larius, awaiting them at the exit, another stairway that rose upwards.

The passage eventually led out of the fortress, and unexpectedly back into the open. The fortress lay on their right, the chasm loomed threateningly on the left, and another stone stairway led upwards, curling around the prison tower like a poisonous snake around an innocent rabbit. The night sky above was clear and somehow reassuring, and it felt liberating not to be cooped under the heavy blocks of stone inside the grim fortress.

"Oh... that's nice," Varric remarked as they climbed upwards, the dwarf now and then running ahead to disable a dangerous trap to catch the unwary.

"What's so nice about it?" Aveline asked.

"Well, I was just wondering how some place sinister and foreboding would look like. And there it is," Varric said, pointing ahead. The curling path finally stopped rising, made a sharp turn and spun out to the last bridge across the chasm, leading to the final seal. Four statues of bronze griffons sat on the balconies of the hall ahead of them, channeling beams of golden energy into the seal, presumably holding Corypheus in his imprisonment.

"Foreboding is right," Bethany smiled, barely able to contain her nervousness. "...Janeka should be nearby. Where is she?"

They were half-way across the bridge, when the Wardens decided to announce themselves, stepping out from the shadows of the pillars at the entrance to the hall. "It is over, Larius," Janeka shouted confidently. "Hand over the girl, and I might consider not killing you."

Bethany was about to ask whether she had any say in the matter, but Larius cut her off. "The girl has made her choice. The right one!"

Janeka gave a sharp laugh. "How amusing, considering you did not allow her father to make that choice."

"It doesn't matter!" Larius shouted. "It's in the past!"

"You forced my father into helping you somehow, I gathered as much," Bethany said. "What exactly did you do?"

"I was the Commander of the Grey, and it was my task to secure an apostate that could restore the seals," Larius finally had no option but to explain, backed into corner. "I... delivered an ultimatum. Help us or she dies."

"That is... monstrous," Aveline snarled, looking ready to strangle Larius with her bare hands.

"Mother was pregnant with Riona when it all happened," Bethany whispered, feeling strangely lightheaded.

"I prayed that I would never have to decide her fate, and I didn't have to!" Larius exclaimed. "She was never told of what happened between Malcolm and me. I... regret having to do it, but... it is in the past. I cannot undo that even if I wished."

"Now do you see, Hawke?" Janeka asked, giving Larius a gloating smirk. "You cannot trust anything Larius says. He will spout any lies to have his way."

"And you won't?" Bethany snapped at the Warden mage, before turning back to Larius. "What you did to my family was wrong, despicable. But... you did not force my father into doing something terrible, quite the opposite. He still did the right thing. And he would have done so if you had only asked for his aid. You did not need to threaten my mother."

"Yes... I realized that when it was already too late," Larius admitted sadly. "If I had known what sort of man Malcolm Hawke was... I would have handled the situation differently."

"As for you..." Bethany turned back to Janeka, readying the Key. "I don't suppose you'll just go away, if I ask you nicely?"

"Stupid girl," Janeka snarled, moving to cast a quick spell. "I'll take your blood from your still warm corpse!"

Aveline quickly charged to intercept the Wardens heading for Bethany, while Cullen jumped to confront Janeka, aiming to stop her spell casting. The Warden mage, however, was quick to resort to blood magic, stunning Cullen with a paralyzing spell, and it was sheer luck that the other Wardens were kept too busy by Aveline and Larius to take advantage of Cullen's vulnerable position.

Bethany briefly pondered countering Janeka's blood magic with her own forbidden spells, but still Cullen's presence alone was a great motivator in staying clear from that path. And blood magic did not appear to be needed, the Key so full with potent energy, enhancing her spells to the degree when their sheer power almost frightened her. The simple ice blast did not simply slow Janeka, it also threw her back across halfway of the hall, making her bash her head painfully against the dais with the seal. As Janeka rose from the floor, shaken, her magical protections failing briefly, Varric used the moment to put a crossbow bolt in her shoulder. The Warden mage let out a cry of pain, shimmering sphere surrounding her, deflecting the next bolt, as she moved to heal herself.

In the frantic melee, Aveline noticed Bethany's quiet approach and nimbly stepped out of the way to avoid the cone of cold jumping from the girl's outstretched hands, hitting the three Wardens and immobilizing them. As they struggled to break free, Aveline put her sword through one of them, the man crumpling to the floor with a weak sigh. As she was about to stab another of the frozen opponents, however, she let out a cry of pain, Bianca's bolt hitting her from behind, passing through her plate armor and imbedding into her lower back, as Varric let out an evil cackle before reloading his crossbow.

"Mind control!" Bethany shouted, now regretting she had not used her blood magic earlier.

"...I'll keep him occupied!" Cullen had finally shaken off the effects of the spell and rushed to knock Bianca out of Varric's hands, the dwarf then trying to attack him with a dagger, doing so rather ineffectively.

Janeka was clearly the greatest danger on the battlefield, and Bethany realized that she needed to be neutralized as quickly as possible. Seeing that the Warden was about to cast yet again, she quickly got off a spell of her own, a version of dispelling that not only stripped the enemy of their protections, but also interrupted their casting. Watching Janeka make strangled choking motions, Bethany felt grateful to Orsino for teaching her this spell during her stay at the Gallows.

Just as she pondered how to use the opportunity to deal with Janeka once and for all, Larius broke the ranks of the melee and closed the distance to the Warden mage with far greater speed than a tainted cripple of his age should have been capable of. He jumped on the surprised Janeka, dragging her to the ground with him and then attacked her like a savage beast, tearing at her flesh, smashing her against the floor, the unfortunate mage quickly becoming a horribly mutilated lump of meat as Bethany was forced to turn away in horror.

The others fell quickly after that, and Larius himself looked a little uncomfortable after he crawled back to rejoin them. "Let me guess... you really didn't like her, did you?" Varric asked pointedly, the dwarf having shaken off the effects of the mind control and looking a little embarrassed about it.

"This is no time for foolishness," Larius snapped back. "He stirs, I can feel it. Corypheus wakes, and the longer you wait, the more aware he will become!"

"If that is so, then I agree that we should not wait," Cullen nodded. "How do we draw him out though?"

"I suppose I just do what I did to all the other seals," Bethany said, having cast a quick spell to mend Aveline's injury. She quickly approached the large dais, the others spreading out in a loose semi-circle around her. "I hope I know what I'm doing..." she whispered, watching as the droplets of her blood dripped down on the surface of the seal, the shining metallic surface absorbing the blood as if drinking it eagerly.

The tower started to shake again, powerful tremors similar to those after breaking the third seal, but much stronger, threatening to collapse the fortress. "Maybe you want to get back from there, Sunshine!" Varric called out a warning.

Sensing danger, Bethany leapt backwards, but the blast of the seal's surface coming loose still threw the girl off her feet, sending her sprawling on the floor, the Key tossed aside and she scrambled up to quickly reach for the powerfully enchanted weapon. There was now a looming hole at the top of the dais, and from it, slowly, a tall, parched humanoid shape rose, looking around with incomprehension.

"Looks like one of those darkspawn emissaries," Varric said, eyeing the creature, his finger hovering over Bianca's trigger. "But I sense this one is... much more than that."

"Be this some dream I wake from?" the hideous being spoke, his voice oddly pleasant despite his awful appearance. His tainted face was like fused together with scraps of metallic debris, as if a piece of metal armor had exploded in his face, becoming embedded there. "Am I in dwarven lands?" it looked around, apparently recognizing the architecture. "Why seem their roads so empty?"

"He is not aware of our presence," Aveline whispered harshly. "Should we attack before he gathers himself?"

Before anyone could answer, Corypheus swirled around and looked at them with cold, piercing eyes. "You! Serve you at the temple of Dumat? Bring me hence! I must speak with the first acolyte!"

"The Old Gods of the Tevinter Imperium," Larius spoke next to them. "Is this creature really..."

"You appear human. Whoever you be, you owe fealty to any magister of Tevinter!" Corypheus commanded, climbing down from the dais and slowly approaching, his eyes chained to Bethany in a way that made her want to turn around and run as far as she could. "On your knees... but wait, what is this I sense? Your blood... I recognize it..."

"The blood of the Hawke," Cullen said thoughtfully. "He would be able to feel it, or else, how would he know to send those dwarves to retrieve Bethany."

"Emerius! Emerius, my old friend and colleague... I can feel you within this fragile, youthful shell..." he reached out with a tall, bony hand, thin fingers with yellowed, cracked nails nearly touching Bethany's pale cheek. "How did you survive? Tell me what has come to pass, I must have... been sleeping for many, many years..."

"What in the blazes is he on about," Aveline cursed. "Is Bethany possessed or... I don't understand..."

"I'm not possessed," Bethany managed weakly. "He must be sensing the blood of Emerius Krayvan, the predecessor of the Amells..."

"Speak sense, Emerius!" Corypheus seemed impatient now. "Do not make me think you are here to extract my knowledge or steal my slaves, my treasures!"

"My apologies... Magister," Bethany said quickly. "I have not retained memories of our previous meetings. Over thousand years have passed since..."

"You remember nothing? Do you recall the light? We sought that golden light," Corypheus started to speak, raising his hands up in the air and looking at the ceiling. "Dumat! Lord! You offered... the power of the gods themselves. But it was... black. Corrupt... Darkness, ever since..."

"I... I cannot believe it," Cullen said, his voice shaking. He stared hard at Bethany, the girl's knees shaking as she could barely stand upright from the shock. "The magisters who defiled the Maker's sanctum! And your ancestor... was amongst those who committed the original sin? We will have... much to discuss, after this..."

"Of course... it makes perfect sense," Larius nodded. "He tainted the world. He can speak to all who carry the corruption, darkspawn or Wardens. He brought Janeka here, she brought Carta, Carta brought you..."

"Did he just say that the city was already black when they got there?" Aveline said, shaking her head. "The Chantry won't like the knowledge of that spreading out..."

"The city... do you remember the city, Emerius?" Corypheus turned back towards Bethany. "It was supposed to be golden! It was supposed to be ours!"

"I... I can't remember!" Bethany cried out, trying to back out of Corypheus' reach.

"We have talked too long, we must kill him quickly!" Larius shouted then, breaking into a run towards the ancient magister, but Corypheus would not be taken by surprise. Almost lazily, he raised his hand and then hit Larius with like an invisible punch to the gut, sending him sprawling to the other side of the hall.

"I see your game now, Emerius!" the magister shouted. "Very well! If I cannot leave with you..." a ball of fire leapt from his fingertips and hit Larius when the old Warden was picking himself up from the floor. Screaming and on fire, he was thrown over the railing and into the chasm, falling to his death. "...then I will leave through you!"


	16. Chapter 16

So we come to the last chapter of this particular story, but it's hardly the end of the entire tale. Another short series is already in the works, but with Mass Effect 3 coming up shortly, don't expect to see it very soon, perhaps around Easter. :) As always, thanks to all who have read and enjoyed Survivors, and special thanks to all those who reviewed.**  
><strong>

**Chapter 15**

_9:37 Dragon  
>Royal Palace of Denerim<em>

The evening before Riona had gone to bed relieved, her mind at ease after the surprisingly smooth talk with Queen Maythre. She had worried that the Queen might not allow her to leave Denerim or even the palace, so the positive outcome of their discussion was pleasantly surprising. Now if she could only make up her mind where she wanted to go from Denerim...

Her sleep that night, however, was anything but peaceful. She dreamed plenty of chaotic dreams, but always there was this familiar voice in the background, weaving through her visions like a silvery strand, finally becoming louder and louder, jerking her awake. Riona rolled around the bed for a while after waking, but the sleep would not return, so she got out of the bed, threw a robe around her shoulders and stepped outside on the large balcony.

In the middle of the night, it was still pitch black outside, few spots of light here and there illuminating parts of the city, the overwhelming silence now and then interrupted by distant noises of drunken revelers. The cold, fresh air cleared her still woozy head immediately, and made her aware of a darkened shape at the far end of the balcony. Someone was there with her, but for some strange reason, scantily dressed and defenseless, she felt no fear.

"You were taking an awful lot of time," the voice came from the dark, familiar, with a sardonic, amused edge to it.

"Flemeth," she said simply. "I'm not surprised to see you, so you must have made me aware of your coming, somehow."

"Good, good," the Witch of the Wilds chuckled, stepping out from the shadows and approaching her. She was as Riona always remembered her, the thin silver crown across her brow, her white hair shaped like dragon's horns, those green serpentine eyes facing her with patronizing amusement. _From a certain angle, Maythre's eyes look exactly the same. I wonder... _

"So, your search for knowledge better left undisturbed continues," Flemeth spoke, now standing next to her. "I wonder where it will take you in the end."

Riona chuckled bitterly. "To an early grave, should I learn too much?"

"We shall see... for now, I consider myself impressed," Flemeth nodded approvingly. "So tell me, what have you learned, 'Champion'?" Her title was spoken with such degree of sarcasm that it made Riona wince.

"Oh, only bits and pieces, I still have more questions than answers," Riona confessed.

"But that is the only way things should be. Do you think I hold all the answers to what you seek? I, too, have more questions than answers," Flemeth said. "Only a fool thinks he knows it all. You and I, we are no fools."

"Is this all a part of your plan?" Riona said, spreading her arms wide and indicating the city around them. "Is this your design of how things should be, or is this truly Maythre's own plan?"

"An excellent question," Flemeth replied. "What do you think?"

"I think you must have saved Maythre for a reason. Just like you saved me for a reason. You do not dispense your aid, unless you stand to gain something significant in return."

"Then you know the answer already," Flemeth's words made Riona sigh inwardly. _No straight answers, of course. Never expect that._

"And what of Morrigan?" she asked then. "Was she a part of your grand design too, or did she truly manage to defy the mighty Witch of the Wilds?"

The light in Flemeth's eyes briefly flickered to a burning fire, then returned to the usual cool green. "Morrigan... she thinks she has defied me... for now," Flemeth finally admitted. "But things will not stay the same forever."

"They say she was afraid you would use her as a vessel for possession. That's why you raised and groomed her into someone that would suit your needs. Was that your only plan for her?"

Flemeth laughed and shook her head. "And did you think you carried my only means of returning after my 'defeat'? My dear girl, at my age, I do not leave anything to chance." The Witch was silent for a while, before turning to Riona. "You must know what I am talking about. Do not disappoint me now."

"Why... why rest everything on one daughter..." Riona managed, feeling a strange weakness coming over her. "When you could just as easily have daughter**s**." Flemeth's smile was unmistakable in the dark. _I knew it. I saw it in her eyes._ "So, is Maythre really-"

"Let us not diminish ourselves with tedious explanations that are beneath us," Flemeth swiftly interrupted her. "I take my leave now, but to reward your persistence, I will reveal something to you."

Riona froze, staring at the Witch, hanging on her every word. "Your sister." She felt her heart clench, as if Fenris would have wrapped his lyrium fist around it and tugged at it painfully. "She is alive."

The words crushed into her, forcing her down on her knees at Flemeth's feet. "What..." she whispered numbly. "Where is she..." _I had already made my peace... but Flemeth would not lie. She speaks in riddles, but never an outright lie. Beth... Bethany, she is alive!_

"She has a task ahead of her, as do you," Flemeth said, more kindly now. "Where she must venture, you cannot follow."

"What? You... you cannot tell me she's alive and then say that I can never see her again!" Riona cried, feeling hot tears roll down her cheeks. "It's not fair! It's not fair!"

"You will be able to see her again, after your tasks are complete. More I will not say."

"Wait, tell me where-" Riona shouted, but to no avail. Flemeth was no longer with her on the balcony, only a distant flapping of great wings a reminder of her recent presence. "Damn it... damn you, Flemeth!"

* * *

><p><em>9:37 Dragon<br>Corypheus's Prison - The Final Seal_

The screams of the falling Larius were still ringing in their ears, when another blast of energy knocked them all in different directions, Corypheus shielding himself with a myriad of protections and moving to stand on top of the dais again. They quickly jumped back up to their feet only to see the ancient magister casting a complicated ritual, drawing rays of energy forth from the griffon statues around the hall, absorbing the golden beams into his bony frame.

Aveline and Cullen immediately charged him, but his protections seemed impenetrable to both swords or crossbow bolts, and Bethany's own magics proved useless as well, unable to dispel the magister's defenses. "The statues!" she exclaimed then, realizing the plan of Corypheus. "He's drawing the power from them, I'm sure! We need to disable them... somehow!"

But as they rushed towards one of the balconies, Corypheus showed no intention in standing idle on the dais. Flames jumped from his hands, a brightly burning ball at his feet that suddenly started to flow towards them quickly, like a river of fire. "Scatter!" Varric shouted and they all dispersed, but the fire did not simply continue past them, it cut sharply to the side and flowed in Bethany's direction. "What the... it's after you, Sunshine! Run!"

Bethany did not need to be told twice, burning to a crisp certainly was not amongst her plans for the day, so she raced away as far as she could from the rest, leading the flames away. "Just do something with that statue, anything!" she shouted as she continued to run, feeling a little out of breath and mentally cursing herself for not being in a better physical shape.

The others seemed to be taking ages with the statue, and Bethany was quickly becoming very exhausted from all the running, realizing she would not be able to keep up for much longer. An idea came to her then, running across the dais and then quickly cutting to the side before crashing into Corypheus's barriers. The fire trailing her did not react as quickly and hit the shields, immediately getting extinguished with an angry sizzle.

She became aware of an exclamation of joy and looking at her friends, she saw that Aveline and Cullen had managed to push the statue over the wall and it balanced on the edge precariously before the templar sent it down into the chasm, breaking the golden ray of energy that Corypheus was busy absorbing. The magister looked annoyed, but the shields around him did not fizzle.

"To another statue, quickly!" Bethany shouted, as they all turned to run to the next balcony. Corypheus was casting another spell, but nothing seemed to happen after he had completed it. Then, all of a sudden, the entire floor of the hall seemed to bubble and change, sharp outcropping of rocks shooting from the ground, appearing in their way and blocking their passage to the next griffon statue. Worst of all, Aveline did not manage to halt her run quickly enough, and ended up crashing shoulder first into the heavy rocks, sickening noise of snapping bones made her left hand completely useless, the redhead gritting her teeth and stealing herself against the horrible pain.

"He's sending that fire for us again!" Cullen said, first to reach the statue, looking back at Corypheus. "Spread out!"

"I hope it's coming at me, I can't do much else but run," Aveline managed through clenched teeth.

"It's Varric!" Cullen shouted the warning. "Run, dwarf!"

"Oh, come on!" Varric cursed. "What's next? If he pulls a dragon out of his ass, that's it, I'm leaving!"

As Varric kept running and swearing, the other three quickly made it to the statue. "I can't help with pushing it anymore," Aveline confessed, the pain on her face evident.

"I'm not sure I can do it alone," Cullen admitted.

"My magic will help," Bethany grinned, remembering a trick out of Riona's book, something she had used to destroy a cave wall under the Sundermount. "Stand back." The blue flickering sphere of energy rose on the balcony so that the force of its explosion would propel the statue over the side. A loud bang, and the bronze griffon was still there, but it had come off its moorings, and Aveline sent it toppling downwards with a heavy kick.

"That's two more to go," the Guard-Captain said, then looking back to the hall, her eyes searching for their companion. "Where are you, Varric?"

"Over here!" came a voice, but they could not see their friend. "I can't see a thing behind all these rocks! Where are those fires?"

"Right behind you!" Bethany warned as they ran towards the next balcony. "Lead them to bounce against his shield!"

"If only I could see-... oh, shit! Ow, damn it, fire really does hurt!" Varric yelled, just barely jumping away from the flames, rolling over a few times to smother the fire threatening to consume his leather jacket.

They were nearly upon the third statue, when Corypheus threw another trick their way. The outcroppings of rocks suddenly started to buzz with electricity, jolting them painfully when they ran past them. The barriers of electricity connecting the rocks made reaching the statue nearly impossible, unless they were willing to charge through the crackling shields and suffer the painful consequences.

Cullen decided to scale one of the rock outcroppings, ignoring the pain, while Bethany protected herself with arcane shields and just waded through the worst of the lightning beams, forgetting that Aveline would not be able to scale the rocks with her broken shoulder. The Guard-Captain charged bravely through the buzzing barrier, not one of Aveline's smartest decisions as she went down, twitching slightly before remaining to lay quietly groaning on the floor. Cullen had to dash back and together with Bethany they pulled Aveline into the relative safety on the balcony.

Bethany immediately dropped on her knees next to her friend and started to cast a healing spell, noticing that the weather outside the tower and around them had changed very dramatically, mirroring the spells Corypheus was throwing at them. White lightning crackled from the sky, veritable tornadoes whipped violently around the tower, and the sky had gone dark, so completely dark. "Is Varric still dodging the fire?" she asked Cullen, after she had returned Aveline to full consciousness and removed at least some of the stinging pain.

"It seems not, he looks to be fighting his way back towards us," Cullen said. "It would be very annoying if he would set that fire to chase us now, with the rocks and lightning in our way."

Bethany looked up at Cullen, sighing inwardly. "Let's just... deal with the statue quickly," she spoke, knowing that the templar's words would sooner or later unavoidably become true. She got up from the ground, and moments later the telekinetic burst again left the heavy bronze griffon balancing on the edge. Cullen sent it flying with a gentle push, and now only the last of the statues remained.

"Perhaps you should remain here, Aveline," Bethany looked at her friend with concern. Injured as she was, the redhead would have great difficulties navigating the obstacles on the battlefield.

"I wish you to make note of my reluctance as I agree to this suggestion," Aveline managed a half-smile as she accepted Bethany's decision. "But I will have to move if he sends that fire chasing me."

Varric was already on his way towards the last statue, Bethany and Cullen now starting their advance to it as well, but the progress through the barriers was slow. Amidst all this, Corypheus's latest trick caught them all unaware, the wily magister casting a spell that formed patches of slippery ice under their feet. All as one they fell, Bethany sliding through a barrier of electricity, but protected by the arcane shields she remained unharmed. Cullen managed to gently bounce against the rocks and avoid significant injuries, but Varric was carried through the worst of the lightning and seemed incapable of getting up from the ground on his own. And worst of all, Corypheus had not forgotten about the flowing fire either, setting it to chase Cullen and leaving Bethany to deal with the last statue on her own.

She knew she had to deal with it quickly, for Cullen had only so much time to run from the flames in the obstacle filled hall. The energy blast again rocked the statue, but it moved only slightly, far less than the previous two. Sighing, Bethany moved to cast another spell, not expecting much from a simple ice blast, but the power of the Key still kept catching her by surprise. The simple spell left her fingertips bursting with energy, crashing into the statue with such a force that it not simply pushed it over the edge, it took off a large part of the balcony, making Bethany jump backwards in a hurry to avoid being dragged into the chasm below.

The hall behind her suddenly became quiet. As Bethany turned around, the rocks, the ice, the fire, everything was gone. Varric and Cullen were rising groggily, Aveline stepping back into the hall, holding her shoulder. Corypheus was still standing on the dais, hands raised to the sky. "Dumat! Lord! Give me power! More power!" he shouted, sounding irritated.

"Our Lord is long gone, Corypheus," Bethany spoke, not entirely sure what had made her pretend of being a vessel of her ancestor. "He cannot give you more power! Your prayers are all for naught."

"You... you think you have bested me, Emerius?" Corypheus hissed, turning back towards her. "Have your victory here today, then... but know, this is far from over, my friend."

"Oh... it's over, Corypheus," Bethany exclaimed, readying her next spell, the Key almost shaking in her hands, building up with energy. Corypheus's body burst in flames, burning bright like a torch, as the magister fell to his knees. His eyes met with Bethany's one more time, and the ancient mage appeared to smile, a calm, knowing grin, unbecoming to someone about to perish for eternity. Then he fell face first on the dais, the fires slowly turning the parched, skinny shell into a large piece of charcoal.

_Somehow that... didn't feel final at all,_ Bethany thought with worry. _I best be careful._ The others were now approaching the dead magister as well. "You alright, Aveline?" she called out to the redhead. "That was some beating you took, perhaps I should take another look at that shoulder?"

"Do not concern yourself over it, Bethany," Aveline replied, looking remarkably recovered. "That last knock I received must have set the bones back in place, and the healing potions I took relieved most of the pain. In fact... I feel oddly rejuvenated..."

Bethany gave her friend another worried look. _Strange indeed,_ she thought at herself, then casting a look at Cullen. _No doubt he will want us all to swear never to mention Corypheus' words to anyone in order to preserve the secrets of the Chantry. Or maybe he'll want to interrogate me about my ancestor and whether I'm possessed. Or drag me back to Kirkwall to fix those rifts in the Veil..._

"The foe is well and truly vanquished," the templar said, prodding the dead magister with the tip of his sword. "Our task here is completed. We are free to return."

_And that's it?_ Bethany wondered as Aveline spoke up again. "Yes, we should waste no more time here. Let us leave quickly," the redhead said, as she and Cullen turned around to depart.

"Back to Kirkwall?" Bethany asked.

"Yes," Cullen replied simply.

"Where else?" Aveline gave her a mildly exasperating stare.

"Just go ahead," Bethany spoke quickly, with the corner of her eye spotting Varric still hunched over Corypheus' burned shell. _Don't tell me he's going to act strange too, now. I'm still stunned that Cullen would just... not speak of all that._ She approached Varric, feeling a little worried, but then relaxing as she saw that he was simply checking the old magister for some ancient Tevinter treasures. "You're going to return with them?" she asked.

"For now. I left some things unfinished in Kirkwall... before I can follow your sister to Ostwick," Varric replied without looking up at her. "You'll follow us, of course."

"No," Bethany said, without truly knowing why. It just felt like the answer she was supposed to give.

"No?" now Varric did look up at her, surprised. "Where will you go then, Sunshine?"

"I don't know yet, Varric," she replied, feeling a little sad, but still completely convinced in her decision. "I have no doubt we will see each other soon again, though. I'll try to make contact as soon as I'm able."

_I wish I could tell him why I feel I must do this,_ she thought. _But something tells me that my life would be in terrible danger if I were to return with them to Kirkwall. Corypheus... I fear he might still be out there, somewhere. _

_And with what I have learned here today... about the Black City, about my own ancestor... this is significant. I... I cannot learn something like this and return to a timid, peaceful life in seclusion. This is too big, _Bethany decided resolutely. _I do not know what Fate intends me to do with this knowledge, but I plan to find out. I will go into the world and forge my own destiny. And pray that I find Merrill and Riona along the way..._

"Hope you know what you're doing, Sunshine," Varric said, looking a little sad. "I'm going to miss you, and so will your sister."

"Everything will be fine, Varric," she smiled encouragingly in return. "I have a good feeling about this. Say... did you find something interesting?" she asked, noticing Varric staring at something in fascination. It was a small curved dagger, softly glowing green emeralds worked beautifully into its pommel. "I didn't think you were fond of knives, Varric."

"Oh, but I am. Always carry several around, even if you don't see me using them all that often," Varric chuckled.

"It's really pretty," Bethany smiled. "Maybe you should give it a name, like you did with Bianca!"

"Already done," Varric's returned smile was bittersweet and enigmatic. "Already done, Sunshine."

"Well, aren't you going to tell me?" Bethany asked, a little pleadingly. "I bet you named it after some important lady in your life, right?"

"Good guess," Varric replied. "Tell you what, Sunshine. You come back to us after your mysterious little adventure, and I'll tell you the name I gave to the dagger."

"Alright!" Bethany laughed. "It's a deal!"

As Bethany slowly walked away, she never heard the word that left Varric's lips, his fingers running along the dark silverite blade. "Hawke..."

* * *

><p><em>9:37 Dragon<br>Royal Palace of Denerim_

After Flemeth's visit, Riona was physically unable to fall asleep again, far too excited, all her thoughts only about her sister. Where was she? Where did she have to go and what was the task before her that Flemeth had mentioned? Was she in danger? And those were only a few of the many questions plaguing Riona's mind, not allowing her to calm down.

Come the morning, Shilla had brought breakfast up to her room, looking sad about the news that Riona would leave shortly. Riona hadn't been able to force down more than a few bites, then asking the elven servant to scour the entire castle for something alcoholic, knowing she wouldn't be able to relax otherwise. In the end, Shilla returned with a couple of bottles of wine from the cook's personal supplies. Several hours later, both bottles lay overturned on the table and a very mellow Riona was slumped at the writing desk, trying to compose a letter.

_I should have written him long time ago, but no, instead I was entertaining myself by shamelessly flirting with Nathaniel,_ thoughts crawled through her head. _And now, I must write him to ask about Bethany, too. If anyone knows something, it should be Varric._ She stared at the white parchment, unsure how to begin or what to even say. _I can't go back to Kirkwall. Should I ask him to come to Denerim?_

"Dear Varric," she started to slowly write on the parchment.

Then her brow furrowed as she thought frantically. _He was going to follow me to Ostwick. But he never did. He's always been like married to Kirkwall. Maybe it's wrong for me to try and tear him away? His family. The Merchant's Guild, no matter how much he despises it. His carefully constructed web of informants. His entire life is tied to that city. Can I truly take it all away for an uncertain relationship with an apostate? What can I give him? Not much. Not enough. He deserves more than me. He deserves better._

Shaking her head and trying to clear those gloomy thoughts from her head, Riona tried to focus on her sister again. _I want to find out what happened to you, Beth, but... Flemeth sounded so assured that we must not meet, not until later. Perhaps I should not defy Flemeth, or it might make things worse. What she said almost implied I should proceed on the path I had intended to take..._

Riona took the piece of parchment and tore it up, tears again escaping her eyes. _I'm so sorry, Varric. I will never forget you, and though it breaks my heart, it seems we are destined to go our separate ways. I hope you will be happy. Remember me with love and fondness, as I will remember you. _

She brought the quill to a new piece of parchment, starting to write. "Dear Nathaniel," the words said. "I have decided to accept your offer..."

**THE END**


End file.
